


Up Close and Personal

by Sheila_Snow



Category: Jurassic Park (1993 1997 2001), Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park III (2001)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Dinosaurs, Families of Choice, M/M, Novella, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheila_Snow/pseuds/Sheila_Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Alan Grant pioneers the exciting new field of Anthropologic Paleontology, or more precisely, "Alan gets kidnapped and accidentally marries a raptor" - thanks to Sinwritesfics for this extremely astute version of my summary.  ; )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up Close and Personal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



> The other thing in the movie (besides Alan and Billy of course!) that piqued my interest was Alan's comment about the velociraptors' communication and social skills. This fic attempts to explore that a little further than the movie did.
> 
> This is very much A/U, as I've changed the end of the movie a tad. Billy still has his encounter with the pteranodons, but he comes away with much lesser injuries. The tete-a-tete with the raptors and the eggs goes a little differently as well.
> 
> I want to thank my wonderful beta readers, foolish_m0rtal and myystic, who both came through with truly outstanding last minute betas on this novella-length fic. And, as always, to Ros -- I doubt if I would have had the nerve to post this thing without her assistance and encouragement!

"I've always felt the bones talked to me as I pulled them out of the ground.  
The trick, of course, is learning to decipher their language."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


Dr. Alan Grant's right hand curled into a fist as his abused nervous system struggled to recover. With his ears ringing and his head pounding, it wasn't surprising that the sense of smell was the first to return upon regaining consciousness. He breathed in shallowly, hoping it would give him a clue as to where the hell he was -- given the fact that the rest of his body seemed to be temporarily on strike.

_Dampness, decay, the pungent biological overload of too many living organisms in too small an area._ This meant something, something important, but it was so damned difficult to think when his whole body felt like it had been run over by a freight train.

He inhaled again. Definitely soil, but why the hell was he lying face-first on the ground? He thought he'd given up the drunken binges while he was still a grad student, oh, what felt like eons ago. Before getting his doctorate.

Long before Billy.

He smiled lopsidedly against the ground. Everything lately seemed to come down to either Before Billy or After Billy. Before something else, too, if he could just remember what the hell _that_ was.

As more of his senses grudgingly revived, his fingers also began to register their surroundings. Soil, yes. Damp soil, definitely -- the deep down saturation of a soil that never dries out. He shifted his upper torso slightly and grimaced as his shirt stuck to his body in the presence of an all-pervading humidity.

He froze as everything clicked. Forest. Humidity. _Rainforest._

He knew somehow that this was a bad thing. And that lying on the ground in a rainforest was a _very_ bad idea. . . .

_Damn!_ Memory flooding back with a vengeance, he attempted to lever his body up from the ground, but for some reason, his left arm refused to hold him up. Falling back to rest on his stomach, he slowly opened his eyes. His first thought was that Billy was going to be furious when he saw the blood stains on the shirt he'd just given him for his birthday.

His next thought was how absolutely malevolent the upraised sickle claw of a velociraptor looked while still attached to its owner . . . up close and personal.

**************************

"BILLY!"

Billy Brennan winced at Mrs. Kirby's booming shout. The sound reverberated down the narrow valley in diminishing echoes like the fading peals of a church bell.

_Dinner bell, more likely. Some people never learn._ However, Billy smiled with relief when he saw the figures running toward him. Actually, it was more like _heard_ them approaching, as they were forced to cut back and forth amidst the lavish flora to reach him. With the obscuring vegetation and pervasive mist, it was difficult to count the actual _number_ of people approaching, but Billy tried anyway with equal parts hope and desperation.

He was getting tired of breathlessly waiting to identify running figures to see if one of them might be the missing Alan. It had become a habit on this blasted island, and he didn't like it, not one bit.

_One, two, three . . . dear God. . . ._

Billy could only stand and stare as the Kirby family surrounded him, all three of them talking at once in their relief at locating one of their 'guides.' In a state of mute shock, Billy didn't register their words, their hands in his, or even the pain from his cuts and scrapes aggravated by overly enthusiastic hugs.

The Kirbys eventually pulled back at Billy's silence, their babble dying down to confused glances as Billy sank heavily to the ground.

"Billy, are you all right?" Amanda Kirby crouched down to his level, looking Billy over for injuries, wincing at the blood stains that dappled his tattered, water-logged shirt. "How badly did those pterano-things hurt you?"

Billy merely stared off into the forest, hands clutching his knees, heartbroken.

Eric tugged on his mother's sleeve. He had evidently made the connection first, probably because he'd watched his future stepfather killed right before his eyes, not all that long ago. "Dr. Grant," he said. "He thinks Dr. Grant. . . ." Eric stopped when Billy's gaze settled on him.

Shifting his attention to Mr. and Mrs. Kirby, Billy asked with his eyes what he couldn't seem to manage with words.

Paul and Amanda Kirby exchanged anguished glances, and Billy dropped his head between his knees.

_Oh, God. Alan._

**************************

Alan Grant froze. It wasn't like he could do much of anything else at the moment, but as his scattered wits coalesced, he realized he spent half his time on these God-forsaken islands desperately running . . . and the other half desperately frozen in place. He was too old for the pell-mell running, and he had a feeling the 'freeze and blend into your surroundings' trick only worked for baby bunnies.

The six-inch claw filling his vision slowly receded as its owner stepped back a couple of paces. It was replaced with the tapered snout and serrated teeth of a very large adult _Velociraptor mongoliensis_.

Funny how the mind fell back into familiar patterns in times of stress. Once a paleontologist, always a paleontologist. In this state of quiet hysteria, he actually thought it a shame you couldn't tell the age of the beast from the wear on its teeth like you could with a horse . . . as if it mattered how many sets of the ever-replacing teeth the raptor had gone through before it ate him. No, he knew it didn't make any sense, but he was absolutely certain he'd used up his share of luck on this trip.

And he was just plain scared.

Very, very scared.

The raptor's nose came closer and sniffed, much like a dog would, moving its large head over Alan's face and injured left arm. The thin, pink membranes in its nostrils quivered at the scent of blood that still extruded from the bite marks in his upper forearm.

Not that it mattered all that much, but Alan recognized this particular raptor -- the distinctive size and coloration of the big male made it easy to recognize the pack's leader.

Alan closed his eyes again, having absolutely no desire to watch the raptor tear his arm off at the shoulder. Even on those rare occasions when he was merely having his blood drawn, Alan had always averted his eyes -- he was quite the baby that way. Bad enough having to _feel_ the pain, he simply wasn't up to watching all the gruesome details.

As he waited behind the feeble safety of his tightly sealed lids, he reflected that once again Billy had been right. He'd always chided Alan on the way he let events run away with him, doing or speaking without thinking it through first. Billy had affectionately called it "Alanation" -- wherein Alan did something brash and impetuous, which seemed to be a perfectly good idea to him at the time, only to find that he'd thoroughly pissed off _somebody_ important in the process.

Doing this to college deans and grant committees had cost Alan the occasional reprimand or research grant -- doing it to an entire pack of velociraptors was turning out to be a completely different ball of wax.

Well, he'd certainly thought that blowing into the resonating chamber was a good idea at the time. It _had_ seemed to forestall the velociraptor pack from doing something messily permanent to him and the Kirbys. But when he had mimicked the call for help, he hadn't realized he would pique the curiosity of a passing allosaurus as to why the tasty, possibly injured velociraptor needed help in the first place.

He grimaced. Oh yes, he remembered _everything_ now. . . .  


_Alan was staring apprehensively into the female raptor's eyes from a distance of inches when the 25-foot-long allosaurus careened into the small clearing where he and the Kirbys knelt, breaking the tableau as the giant carnivore bellowed in delight at the feast laid out before it._

_A big male raptor, who had merely been watching their confrontation with the female raptor until then, immediately sprang into motion. He was obviously the pack's leader, as he galvanized the other raptors into action against the allosaurus, snarling orders and seeming to be everywhere at once. He sent some of the pack scattering while the others leapt with an almost choreographed array of feints and mock charges against the much larger carnivore._

_The Kirbys, having finally learned to handle themselves in a predator/prey environment, prudently fled in different directions into the forest._

_For some undoubtedly irrational reason, Alan didn't follow them. He retreated to the edge of the clearing but went no further. Alan watched, fascinated, as the alpha male raptor confidently called out orders to the members of his hunting pack, directing the attack on the miniature tyrannosaur._

_Oh, Alan realized he was just as much prey to the allosaurus as any of the velociraptors, and for that matter, he was still prey to the velociraptors themselves, but for some reason this confrontation intrigued him enough to override his usually strong sense of self-preservation. His theories on velociraptor intelligence had led him to surmise they had advanced pack-hunting techniques, and it was gratifying indeed to see that, once again, he was correct . . . and his conservative colleagues were dead wrong._

_Of course, being 'dead wrong' in this environment tended to be hazardous to one's health._

_On the island of Isla Nublar so many years ago, Alan had briefly observed the confrontation between tyrannosaur and raptors, but the mismatched one-on-one fight that had saved their lives back then was nothing like the timing and coordination these Isla Sorna raptors displayed._

_Here, the raptors seemed to be the dominant presence, using their intelligence and social skills for a distinct advantage over the random violence of the less intelligent predators._

_As if in demonstration of Alan's thoughts, the alpha male raptor glanced at the ground, pivoted on one hind leg and called out another sequence of orders. Almost as one, the pack of raptors retreated slightly, moved around the flanks of the allosaurus and forward -- and Alan realized with utter astonishment that the raptors were actually **herding** the big predator away from the center of the clearing . . . and the vulnerable eggs._

_Poised, confident and extraordinarily fast, the raptor leader seemed to enjoy the challenge presented by the dangerous allosaurus. Maybe it was simply Alan's lifelong infatuation with ancient history, but the big male's actions reminded him somehow of a Greek or Roman general, directing the battle while still actively participating in the fighting . . . and making it look planned to the last minute detail._

_Under the cover of the pack's diversion, a large female carried away one of the eggs still lying forlornly in the middle of the clearing. Catching the motion of the fleeing female, the allosaurus roared its displeasure and plowed through the pack of flanking raptors back toward the center of the clearing and the one remaining egg._

_As the knot of fighting dinosaurs came dangerously close to the egg, Alan's vision narrowed even further, his eyes drawn to its desperate plight. He watched the egg as it vibrated, bounced and rolled with the force of pounding claws and leaping raptors. He watched as time and time again it narrowly escaped being crushed by the struggle being fought literally on top of it._

_The female raptor who had confronted them earlier tried repeatedly to retrieve the egg, but she was hindered by the battle around her and was unable to get close enough to grab it. She grew increasingly frantic and made one final plunge for the egg . . . but didn't make it. The enraged, harried allosaurus finally zeroed in on a target, and very little could survive the focused attention of two tons of determined dinosaur. With the strength borne from its thickly muscled thighs, the allosaurus leapt and sent the female raptor flying with a belly-opening gash from a toe claw. She landed with a sickening thud directly in front of where Alan lay hidden in the undergrowth._

_The alpha male raptor screamed in fury and redoubled his efforts against the allosaurus._

_The female raptor struggled to rise -- instinct and possibly something else forcing another attempt to save what had to be her own offspring. Still, it was a hopeless endeavor, as her life blood and innards poured out from the tremendous gash in her abdomen. The female raptor fell to the ground and then, amazingly, started to **drag** herself toward the egg._

_As she strained to pull herself along with her inadequate forelimbs, she keened softly, a sound so resonant with grief and despair that Alan decided he never wanted to hear any creature make that sound again._

_The female collapsed and died still yards from reaching her goal._

_To his own dying day, which was beginning to look very much like today, Alan decided he would never know the reason for what he did next. Maybe it was his ingrained training as a paleontologist to preserve precious dinosaur specimens. Maybe it was the exaggerated care he had been taking to insure nothing happened to the eggs he was carrying in Billy's knapsack. Maybe it was simply watching the dying struggle of the raptor mother._

_It was more likely another case of 'Alanation,' where sheer cussedness overpowered common sense._

_But Alan finally ran. . . ._

_**Toward** the egg._

_Ducking the lashing tail of the allosaurus, he dodged around two velociraptors as he dove for the egg. He was knocked off his feet by an oncoming raptor, who simply didn't see him as much of an obstacle, and then he literally crawled the remaining three feet to the egg. He grabbed the egg and rolled frantically, just missing being flattened by one of the allosaurus' hindfeet as it impacted directly where the egg had lain. Scrambling madly, Alan barely avoided being squashed again as the allosaurus fell heavily to the ground under a coordinated attack by the encircling raptors._

_The big dinosaur's frustrated roar rattled the fronds of the nearby palms as it struggled to rise._

_Not pausing to catch his breath or gauge his direction, Alan ran. His last clear thought was that he and Billy were now even -- the young man was going to kill him when he found out what he'd done._

**************************

"The important thing to remember is that no matter how bad you _think_ things can get,  
you're probably underestimating by a factor expressed in exponential numbers."

  


Dr. Ian Malcolm  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


"I'm sorry, Billy, but we don't know exactly _what_ happened to Dr. Grant."

Billy looked up sharply, hope rising once more to fill that cold, inert place in his heart. "You mean he's still alive?" He knew they should be moving, that they couldn't stay in one place in the relative open like this and stay alive, but he _had_ to know. He just had to.

Paul Kirby shook his head sadly. "No, I mean we kind of . . . lost track of him." He looked faintly embarrassed as he ducked his head and turned to stare off into the forest.

"You . . . lost track of him." Billy rose abruptly. His eyes flashed angrily as the accumulated frustration and worry threatened to erupt. He took a step forward, intent on imitating Alan's earlier actions and slugging Kirby, if for no other reason than to release some of the tension coiled in his gut.

But Billy stopped when the thought of Alan brought back the older man's last words to him: _As far as I'm concerned, you're as bad as the people who built this place._

Billy closed his eyes briefly at the searing pain those words still caused, and he realized Alan was probably right. As he examined the downcast faces of the Kirbys, Billy came to the humbling realization that it was _he,_ not they, who was ultimately to blame. It was he who had insisted they come here, he who had stolen the eggs, and he who had allowed himself to become separated from his mentor, yet again, with his unscheduled plunge down the river. Billy took a deep, steadying breath and asked more quietly, "What happened?"

As Paul and Amanda Kirby haltingly filled him in on the events of the intervening hours, Billy's concern only increased. Alan had always said the raptors were capable of more organized thought than simple animals, but Billy hadn't quite believed him. The fact that the raptors had not only missed two eggs among many, but had comprehended what had happened to them and then single-mindedly tracked the eggs down, disturbed him more than he liked to admit. What's more, it had been _Alan_ who had been carrying the eggs.

Billy swallowed painfully around a sudden lump in his throat. And _he_ had meekly allowed Alan to keep them, too heart-sore and stunned after Alan had berated him to insist otherwise.

"It was all a blur at the end," Amanda Kirby was finishing. She flashed him the remnants of a small, hopeful grin. "We don't have any idea which way Dr. Grant went."

She very carefully didn't mention that Alan might not have made it anywhere at all in a clearing full of swarming predators. Billy wouldn't think like that, though. He couldn't think like that and still function. The coast, always the coast. For all he knew, Alan would be sitting there waiting with his head cocked to one side and that endearing half-smile of his, wondering what the hell had been keeping them.

Glancing over at Paul Kirby, Billy noted that once again the man had found something utterly fascinating to look at in the distant forest. Billy felt a chill race through his body, even in the intensely hot, humid air. Maybe Paul's uncharacteristic silence was guilt, maybe it was regret, but a tiny hysterical voice deep inside him was screaming, 'He thinks Alan is dead!'

It was good Billy was not sure, because if he knew without a doubt that Alan was dead, he doubted he'd ever be able to silence that hysterical voice ever again.

Billy shook his head fractionally to clear it. _No time for that now._

Aloud, he merely said, "C'mon, we need to keep moving." Billy spun on his heel and headed back downstream along the riverbank he had been following. The vegetation was denser here as the light-starved trees and shrubs tended to propagate at the break in the forest canopy, but he had no desire at this point to get them all lost. So, suffer through undergrowth they would.

At this point, getting to Alan was the important thing -- the _only_ thing -- that mattered to him.

**************************

"Dying, and dying messily, was commonplace in the Jurassic period. Mankind has long since passed  
the stage of being forced into either the prey or predator role, but 65 million years ago,  
those were the only two choices you had."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


_Alan ran, trying to get far enough from the pack to leave the egg somewhere the raptors would be sure to find it. Perhaps they wouldn't bother to track him down afterwards._

_He was able to get the egg safely down on the ground, but he wasn't **quite** quick enough to get himself to safety._

_The raptor pack had evidently managed to kill or incapacitate the allosaurus much quicker than Alan had thought possible. A young female was the first to catch up to him. At least, Alan assumed she was female. She was small but well formed and lacked the lean and rangy appearance of the one crest-less adolescent he had seen on the perimeter during the allosaurus attack. She incessantly shifted her weight from one leg to the other as she eyed Alan from the few feet that separated them._

_With a startling high-pitched screech, she leapt for Alan's throat and he instinctively interposed his left arm. She slammed them both to the ground with the force of her furious charge, and somehow, even in the midst of his terror and pain, Alan's flailing right hand found a piece of ironwood deadfall lying on the ground. Determined to make her at least pay **something** for her meal, Alan swung the heavy wood at her head. He didn't expect to actually cause her any damage._

_Therefore, when she let go of his arm and sank back abruptly onto her haunches with a stunned, pole-axed expression on her face, Alan found his mouth twitching upward into a grim smile. Hyped up from her encounter with the allosaurus and the chase after Alan, the young raptor obviously hadn't expected the soft, easy prey with no claws to put up much of a fight._

_Not that it made much difference in the long run as, with a teeth-rattling roar, the young female lunged for him again. Alan threw himself to one side but felt a searing pain in his right calf as she lashed at him with a sickle claw. Still struggling to get to his feet, she knocked him aside almost contemptuously with her snout. He rolled from the impetus of her blow and felt his forehead strike a root with resounding force._

_The last thing he heard was the enraged snarl of another raptor just before his world went completely black.  
_

Alan opened his eyes again to the present when the blunt nose of his _current_ tormentor tapped against his left arm. Hissing in pain, Alan instinctively tried to bring the injured limb in closer to his body. He suppressed a flinch as the male raptor again nudged him, this time closer to his shoulder and away from his injured lower arm. This nudge, however, was a little more forceful than the last and Alan took the hint, completing the roll onto his right side.

He struggled to sit up, yelping when he tried to move his right leg. Looking down apprehensively, he winced at the long, deepish-looking gash in his calf visible through his lacerated pant leg. It was lucky for him she'd only managed a glancing blow, or he wouldn't be alive to worry about it.

Bracing his back against a buttress root of the massive tree behind him, Alan glanced warily from the alpha male raptor in front of him to the rest of the pack. Most of them seemed relatively unharmed from their recent encounter with the allosaurus and either stood or crouched patiently, eyes carefully following the movements of the big male. They looked for all the world like a legion of troops attentively waiting for instructions from their leader.

Alan could only hope they weren't waiting for their turn at dinner.

Movement caught his eye and he locked gazes with the young female who had attacked him earlier. She was exhibiting the same restless, agitated behavior she had before charging him minutes -- or was it hours? -- before, but she wasn't in the head-down position he had come to associate with an _imminent_ raptor attack.

She made a furious snapping motion with her jaws and raised her snout to let out a shriek that resonated in an extreme upper frequency, much different from the deeper voices of the other raptors. Whether it was some established variation of the resonating chamber or caused by birth defect or injury, its screeching tone set Alan's teeth thoroughly on edge. He imagined the mythical harpy would make a sound much like that. In any case, it seemed to annoy the raptor leader as well, since he snapped back at her with an irate roar of his own.

Immediately silent, the Harpy lowered her head and turned it to one side. Alan was amazed to see that the ridge over her left eye had actually started to swell, thanks to his makeshift club.

Watching her as she turned restlessly, Alan also noted a long, shallow gash on her neck. _He_ certainly hadn't inflicted that wound, and Alan realized that his last awareness before he had lost consciousness -- the deep-throated bellow of a male raptor -- must be related to that particular injury. She certainly hadn't been injured during the allosaurus attack.

The lead raptor paced back to loom over him once again, and Alan saw fresh, still dripping blood on one of the smaller foreclaws of his right forelimb. Alan's eyebrows rose.

So, the big male had intervened on his behalf, but for what reason? Was it a simple case of the alpha male having first dibs at the dinner table? If so, why not just let her finish him off and enjoy the spoils without having to do the messy work himself? He would've had plenty of opportunity for a snack while Alan had been unconscious.

Alan glanced over his shoulder at the rescued egg, still lying where he had placed it on the forest floor. The male raptor followed his gaze and chirruped a soft command to an older female. She obediently strode over to the egg and inspected it meticulously, rolling it gently and sniffing with her sensitive nose. Finishing her evaluation, she lifted her head and grunted a reply to the big male.

The male raptor looked from the egg to Alan and back again, finally seeming to come to some decision and barking a series of orders to his pack. The older female carefully picked up the wayward egg into her mouth and headed off into the undergrowth. The rest of the pack followed, the older males with their thicker necks and crest spikes taking up point positions on the flanks.

Very quickly, the only remaining occupants of the small clearing were the alpha male, Alan, and the small female who had attacked him. The male barked an order to her and the Harpy replied in a long hiss, bending her head down and weaving it back and forth in obvious denial, pacing menacingly closer to Alan. As she approached, the male's head snaked lower in response, and he growled a two-toned series of notes in a low minor key. He flexed the large sickle claw on his hindfoot in a distinct warning.

Alan watched her approach with wide, apprehensive eyes. The Harpy finally edged to a stop only a few feet away from him. She then warbled something in a pleading tone and the male seemed to consider this, his head raising back up to stare once again at Alan. The bird-like motions of her species were more pronounced now, as her head darted from Alan to the male raptor and back again, evidently seeking permission from her leader to finish what she had started.

And Alan was quite sure she would get it.

Having faced death more times than he cared to count on this ill-fated excursion, Alan had long since passed the stage where his life even bothered to flash before his eyes. He concentrated instead on his memories of Billy, the experiences they shared, their easy camaraderie. He spared the time to wish, as he had so many times in the past few hours, that he had never voiced those last, hurtful words.

The river rapids had seemed to be carrying Billy away from the pteranodons' attack, and Alan prayed that it had been swift enough for him to escape serious injury. Billy was much too young to die here. Much too young. . . .

Alan's chin rose in hopeful resolve. His protégé was alive -- he had to be -- and Alan knew Billy would head for the coast if he could. Billy would escape this wretched island, and he would never have to come across Alan's pitiful remains in this small clearing, never see the results of an old man's foolishness in thinking he was capable of staying alive here, even for a moment, amongst a sea of perfect predators.

During his time on Isla Nublar, Alan had determined there was a kind of primordial fear in humans about dying from an animal's attack. Something about being torn limb from limb seemed to be deeply ingrained in the human psyche as an affront against nature, as if the dominant species of mankind should be impervious to such a death. Other than a rogue lion or other such carnivore, there were few occasions for humans to encounter this situation. Perhaps this was why the rare shark attacks were universally feared -- the thought of being eaten alive, piece by piece, was disturbing to anyone.

Well, thanks to InGen, Alan had become an expert on fear -- primordial or otherwise.

The male raptor backed up a pace and the Harpy immediately lowered her stance, keening gleefully. Alan braced himself against the roughened surface of the tree root, sparing the time for one final prayer for Billy's safety as he hyperventilated, waiting for the inevitable.

Well, Alan had always hated the thought of drowning, too, and he had spent more time on this miserable island soaking wet than dry.

But that's the nice thing about dying, you know. You only have to do it once.

**************************

"Hope is an emotion that's fed and nourished by chaos. But hope has a sense of humor,  
because just when you're starting to feel good about it, it turns around and kicks you in the balls."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


As Billy and the Kirbys neared the mouth of the river they had been following, it had long since tamed from cascading rapids into a wide, lazy delta. Sluggish and algae-covered, the river seemed almost reluctant to empty itself into an uncaring sea.

In the lead of the small group, Billy stopped abruptly enough that Amanda bumped into him from behind. Raising a hand to stifle her mumbled apology, Billy listened intently to the strange noise that had caught his attention. A muffled roaring, not unlike one of the larger carnivores at a distance or. . . .

_Damn! It can't be._ Breaking into a run, leaving the startled Kirbys to follow as best they could, Billy impatiently crashed through the stifling greenery. Brushing aside palm fronds and the ever-present lianas hanging from trees even this far from the rainforest core, Billy finally emerged into bright sunlight to see a postcard-perfect white sand beach . . . and at least half a dozen Marine landing vehicles loaded with men and equipment, approaching rapidly across the half-moon of a small bay.

Billy dimly heard the Kirbys break into a chorus of excited shouts. He watched as they hugged each other and then ran down the beach toward the approaching boats.

_Alan. Alan isn't here._

Billy had been _sure_ the older man would have beaten them to the shore. Stunned, he could only stand in the oppressively warm sand, frozen in disbelief.

Finally unable to bear the others' happiness as he felt his own world falling down around him, Billy turned and ran from the clamoring noise of the landing vehicles and the soldiers shouting orders as they set up their base of operations. He raced around the curve of the bay, away from the relative safety of people and machines until he couldn't hear the unexpectedly intrusive noise. He searched desperately for Alan, for any sign that Alan might have come this way.

He ran for what felt like miles until the beach ended at the base of stark vertical cliffs, the sound of the angry surf pounding over buried rocks even louder than the wheezes from his over-extended lungs.

There was movement here, and life in abundance, but no Alan. As Billy numbly watched the pure white seabirds floating effortlessly on updrafts far above the rocky cliffs, he realized that there was no more coast for him to search.

Alan _had_ to have made it. The infernal man seemed invincible, impervious to any and all setbacks. It was impossible to keep him down for long. Impossible for him to have been. . . .

Turning on his heel, heedless of the consequences, he yelled his mentor's name into the unforgiving forest.

Still breathing heavily, he listened anxiously for a reply. The trade winds blowing from offshore teased him with a gentle caress, ruffling the hair at the base of his neck, much as Alan had once done when he had affectionately harassed him about the length of his curls.

"Alan!"

His shout went unanswered except for the raucous calls of the seabirds offshore and the monkeys foraging in the canopy treetops far above. There was no one there.

He was alone. . . .

Maybe forever.

Billy sat down hard into the warm sand and stared unseeing into the cruel heart of Isla Sorna.

**************************

"Animals are actually much more predictable than humans. Animals either want to kill you  
or they don't. They don't stand around flipping coins to decide if they're feeling homicidal today."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


The conservative majority may have scorned his theories on raptor intelligence, but there was no doubt in Alan's mind at this moment. Animals may attack humans for any number of reasons -- training, illness, protecting territory -- but the hatred in the Harpy's eyes as she crouched before him seemed to go far beyond that.

Personal vendettas had been up to now a solely human trait, yet the sheer vindictiveness smoldering in the jet black eyes of this creature shouted otherwise.

As the Harpy shifted her weight back onto her hindquarters preparing to attack, the male -- to Alan's complete and utter surprise -- growled again, lunged at her and sent her screeching away. With a last baleful glare at Alan, she disappeared into the forest after the others.

Alan slowly turned his head toward the alpha male. None of this was making any sense.

"Well, what now?" Alan's voice cracked a little with disuse, a little with apprehension.

The big male cocked his head at Alan's words. No rending teeth, no slashing claws, he merely looked at Alan with his bird-like stare, and waited.

This somehow chilled Alan more than the Harpy's aborted charge, as the agony of waiting for an opponent to make the first move was often worse than the actual attack.

The human body, however, could operate only so long on fear and adrenaline before it started to shut down. Sometimes what was left was a form of giddiness, sometimes frustration, but more often simple resignation. Injured, battered and exhausted, Alan decided he must have reached that point, because right now he just wanted to get the whole inevitable process over with. Reaching for the left sleeve of his shirt, he pulled the tattered remains of the material up his arm, wincing as he exposed the torn flesh.

He shoved the mangled limb directly under the raptor's nose. "Here. Your psychotic female packmate has already started on this. Should be nice and tender."

Startled, the big male reared up. Evidently he wasn't accustomed to prey offering choice bits for consumption. Well, tough. There was no way Alan could run or climb in his current condition, and he was tired. So very tired.

As the raptor slowly lowered himself to his haunches, Alan weakly waved the arm. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd start here. It already hurts like hell and there are other more . . . indispensable parts of my anatomy that I'd prefer if you saved until last, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

The raptor just looked at him again and then pirouetted with exquisite grace to face back the way the pack had gone. Taking a few steps, he stopped and swung his big head around toward Alan, barking what sounded like some sort of a command.

Stunned yet again by the raptor's perplexing behavior, Alan could only stare as the raptor once again voiced that same series of notes -- louder and more insistent -- eyeing Alan intently as he did so.

With Alan's continued immobility, the raptor threw his head up in seeming frustration and trotted back again to Alan, nudging him forcefully in his good shoulder and then heading once more toward the forest.

_What the hell?_

Alan shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Ahhh, I hope you're not trying to tell me what I think you're trying to tell me." Alan felt it was probably odd holding a conversation with a dinosaur, but he'd talked to fossils all his life as he had carefully extricated their secrets from the ground. Why stop now? At least this one was animate.

A little _too_ animate. The raptor once again stood over Alan, but this time when the big head came down, it grabbed hold of his shirt behind his neck and rose up, pulling Alan upright with frightening ease.

"Shit!" Alan braced his back against the buttress root behind him when the raptor let go, waiting for the world to stop spinning. When his vision finally focused, the raptor was still there, waiting patiently.

"Look, if you'd like your prey a little more mobile, I can point you in the direction of a few of my more annoying colleagues back home. They could probably use the exercise." Alan paused a moment, considering that thought further. "What do you know about chaos theory?"

The big male roared menacingly and gave Alan a forceful nudge, sending him stumbling toward the break in the forest. Catching himself against the trunk of a once extinct broad-needled pine, Alan briefly considered trying to reach the safety of its temptingly accessible limbs. The raptor was right beside him, however, head down and body tensed, prepared for motion in any direction. Even on his best day, Alan knew he would be unlikely to climb fast enough to escape.

And this was definitely _not_ his best day.

He sighed. "Okay, Alex, you win." Alan looked up, smiling weakly at the attentive raptor. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

The raptor appeared to be considering his request, cocking his head briefly at Alan before turning it around again to survey the surrounding forest for potential threats. Alan marveled again at the almost military thoroughness of the raptor. Conscientious and diligent, the raptor seemed to take his leadership responsibilities very seriously, his actions more like a human general under siege than the simple survival instincts of an animal.

Alan smiled again at his whimsy. "It's short for 'Alexander,'" he continued, still clinging wearily to the trunk of the pine, "as in 'Alexander the Great,' you understand."

The raptor suddenly tensed and swiveled toward the sound of something disturbing the underbrush not far into the dense jungle surrounding them. Alan froze, instinctively knowing to take his lead from the big raptor's greater experience and sharper senses.

Standing as tall as he could, neck arched and nostrils flaring, the raptor strained to identify the source of the noise.

Alan released the breath he didn't know he was holding when the big male slowly relaxed, evidently identifying the sound as being a non-threat. More impatient now than ever, however, the raptor paced closer to Alan and pawed the ground with one hindfoot, again voicing the series of tones it had already used twice earlier.

"Okay, okay, I get the message." Giving in to the inevitable, Alan released his hold on the tree and gingerly hobbled across the clearing. Wincing with every step, he realized he was not going to get far in his present condition, and he doubted that his raptor companion was going to allow him to stop and rest every few yards. He bent down to pick up the piece of ironwood he had used earlier, gauging it to be approximately the right length.

He froze when he heard the warning growl. Glancing over, he saw the raptor, head down, teeth bared, tail lashing angrily from side to side. Its gaze was locked with deliberate intent on the piece of wood Alan had used so effectively earlier as a club.

Alan straightened very, very slowly, tucking the ironwood against his right side. "Look, Alex, I wasn't planning to use this on you. Heaven knows it didn't get me very far the last time." Alan paused and smiled ruefully. "Although it was almost worth it, just to see the expression on her face."

The raptor remained in the head-down attack mode, but the tail seemed to be lashing a little less forcefully. Alan kept his stance in what he hoped was a non-threatening position. With sudden inspiration, he tried rounding his shoulders and lowering his head, attempting to mimic the submissive posture he had witnessed earlier in the Harpy. It hurt like hell with all his cuts and bruises . . . but less so, he imagined, than having one's throat torn out.

What had he told that kid at the dig so many years ago? Oh yeah, 'You are alive when they start to eat you, so try to show a little respect.'

He knew things were bad when he had to take his own advice.

After what seemed like an age with no teeth clamping around his neck, Alan glanced up through his lashes.

Seemingly mollified, Alex was once again upright, and although he still kept a wary eye on the piece of wood, the big raptor paced closer to him. Before Alan could react, Alex lowered his head and rubbed against the back of Alan's neck with the underside of his jaw, nearly knocking Alan to the ground in the process.

"Jesus! What the hell was that for?"

Backing up a pace, the raptor sniffed Alan thoroughly before once again nudging him in the direction of the forest.

Sighing, Alan again started off, painfully, leaning heavily on his makeshift cane. _I'm still alive. I guess that's the important thing._

But when an insect almost large enough to have evolved teeth dived for his hair, Alan let out a loud curse.

Damned if somewhere along the way he hadn't managed to lose his hat.

**************************

"The military, of any country, is an organization composed of tiny bits of organized chaos.  
In the Age of Sail, it was quite common for men with sociopathic tendencies to migrate toward  
the military, where it was considered acceptable behavior to run around with sharp, pointy swords  
slicing other people to bits.  
Makes you wonder just who's got their finger poised over the button in modern times, doesn't it?"

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


"Just what the hell do you mean?" Billy was angry. Hell, he was _way_ beyond angry.

"Please calm down, Mr. Brennan." The Marine colonel in front of him fairly oozed civility and bonhomie.

Too bad Billy still wanted to punch his lights out and feed him to the compys.

"You've been through quite the traumatic experience," the colonel continued.

_I'll show you traumatic._ Billy tried to calm himself. Alan always said he'd have do something about his temper. He took a deep breath. "You can't possibly mean you're going to pack up and leave Alan . . . Dr. Grant alone in that hellhole."

The colonel said nothing at first and merely looked back into the jungle, bouncing slightly onto his toes before granting Billy another glance down his aristocratic nose. "I am sorry, Mr. Brennan, but I do have my orders. Besides, we don't even know that Dr. Grant is still alive."

_Down, boy._ Billy could almost hear Alan bending over to offer his playfully stage-whispered advice, that half-smile on his face which meant he'd like to deck the idiot also, thank you very much.

Billy squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Damn, but he missed Alan already. Billy swore that if he ever got the paleontologist back, he was going to handcuff the infuriating man to his wrist.

Billy tried again. "Do you really think your conscience could live with the fact that he _might_ still be alive and you left him out there, alone?"

The colonel sighed deeply. "Regardless of what my conscience may or may not say, my orders remain the same. We were called here to search the _coast_ for any signs of survivors. It was sheerest luck that the task group was anywhere near this area at all, and the fact remains that we are not authorized for any invasive search and rescue missions." He broke off at the disturbingly close roar of a tyrannosaurus. "Nor, would it appear, are we suitably equipped for such an endeavor."

_The hell with the compys, feeding him bit by screaming bit to the spinosaurus would probably be more appropriate._ Billy gritted his teeth. "Dr. Grant is even less 'suitably equipped,' Colonel Waters."

Another sigh. "Mr. Brennan, our . . . contact . . . said that if Dr. Grant and his party were alive, then they would have headed for the shoreline. We have been here for quite some time and have seen no sign of him whatsoever." He bounced a few more times on his toes. "You must understand that we are here totally under the suffrage of the Costa Rican government, since this island is in fact prescribed territory. I understand it required quite a bit of diplomatic maneuvering to allow us here at all."

The pompous oaf seemed so pleased with himself that Billy saw red. Maybe the more time he spent around the living fossils inhabiting this island, the more he was beginning to think like them. And right now all he could think of was gleefully tearing the man limb from limb.

**************************

"It's ironic, but the fossil finds that garner the most attention are those which obviously died  
engaged in a fight for their very survival. The bones don't care how they ended up preserved for  
millennia in the mud, but we humans require evidence of gladiatorial combat before we even give a damn."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


Alan literally stumbled across the remains.

He and Alex had been traveling for what felt like hours, ever deeper into the rainforest proper, where no true sunlight could break through the impenetrable canopy above. The half-light and perpetual moisture easing its way down tree trunks and off flowering plants were enough to sap the spirits of anyone, let alone an exhausted, injured man.

Barely able to set one foot in front of another, Alan nearly fell when the heel of his injured right leg caught in something half-buried in the forest loam. He suppressed a brief moment of panic but swallowed convulsively when he finally recognized what it was he had almost tripped over.

Alan looked down upon the pitiful remnants of a human being, praying with all his soul that it was not Billy's body lying there.

All that remained were broken pieces of bone. Even the larger bones of skull and femurs had been carried off for more leisurely consumption by the smaller carnivores in the forest. The tattered and shredded clothing for the most part still remained; however, and the shirt was thankfully complete enough to recognize as Udesky's.

Alan let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. _Not Billy, thank God, **not** Billy._

Alan stood a moment, both to calm his racing pulse and to bow his head briefly in respect to the dead. Udesky had not been such a bad sort, even though he _had_ participated in the charade that had brought him and Billy to this island. Alan was nonetheless thankful that it was Udesky who was lying there, and not the young man who had come to mean so much to him.

A brief moment of despair overcame Alan as he again looked around. Soon, when the clothing rotted away in the overwhelming humidity, nothing would be left to tell that a man had even died. How many of the InGen employees had died like that, with no one the wiser?

_And would anyone even know the place where I died?_

Alan shook himself in an effort to expel his morbid thoughts and glanced over at Alex, who was watching him with the raptor's usual attentiveness. Alan narrowed his eyes as he regarded the raptor thoughtfully. "Was it you who did this, I wonder?"

The raptor moved closer to Alan, those enigmatic eyes surveying the scene much as Alan had just done.

As the hours had passed and the big raptor had made no move to cause him further injury, Alan had relaxed slightly. But all it took was something like this to emphasize that he was still very much the prey animal here.

Knowing, however, that he dare not miss any opportunities, Alan scanned the immediate area of the body for the man's backpack. His own had been left behind, along with the resonating chamber, at the site of the allosaurus' attack.

Not seeing it anywhere in the vicinity, Alan reluctantly continued on their journey. As luck would have it, only a few minutes later he spotted the backpack lying several yards ahead in a trampled clearing. Alan turned to face the raptor. "Do you mind if we make a small detour here, Alex?" Leaning heavily on his makeshift crutch, he indicated the disturbed ground in the clearing.

To his utter surprise, the big raptor's head followed the motion of his hand, eyeing the area carefully before turning his attention back to Alan. He warbled a series of notes that sounded amazingly like a question.

Alan felt his mouth dropping open and closed it with a snap. _Advanced communication abilities, indeed._ "Ah, I just need to see if that pack over there is still usable. If you don't mind, that is."

Alex breathed out loudly through his nostrils in what sounded much like an impatient snort, but he pivoted and led the way into the clearing.

The big raptor headed unerringly for the backpack and then turned to face Alan just to one side of it.

"You're almost scary, you know that, Alex?" Alan stopped alongside the raptor, keeping a careful distance. "Well, I mean, your kind has always been scary, but not _this_ kind of scary, if you know what I mean." _Watch it, Grant. Babbling is a sure sign of senility._ Alan considered that for awhile as he eyed the eminently dangerous creature standing right next to him, then amended, _Although in this situation, I'm probably entitled._

The raptor tossed his head and scored the ground with one hindfoot, much like an impatient horse. Alan had no difficulty at all understanding _that_ message.

Moving slowly and carefully so as not to startle the big raptor, Alan lowered himself painfully to the ground alongside the remains of the backpack. It felt almost disrespectful to the dead, but Alan was painfully aware that survival meant never missing an opportunity.

Unfortunately, the pack and most of its contents were too torn to be usable, but he did find a few tins of emergency rations that had survived the trampling feet and scavenging hordes.

_Now, how the hell to carry them?_ He and Alex had obviously not yet reached their destination -- whatever that may be -- and with one arm nearly useless and the other needed for his makeshift cane, he had to come up with some other method to carry the supplies.

Shrugging painfully out of his shirt, since it was too damned hot for anything but an undershirt anyway, Alan piled the tins into the shirt and tied them tightly so they wouldn't rattle with motion. He was all too aware of the danger of unnecessary noise in this environment. Loosening his belt, he wrapped the end of his bundle between his belt and pants and then retightened the belt.

Preoccupied with the difficulties of attempting all this virtually one-handed, Alan was startled when a blunt nose appeared -- seemingly out of nowhere -- and bumped inquisitively at the bundle Alan had just secured.

Fearing that the raptor would dislodge the bundle, Alan yelled, "Stop that!" and slapped the raptor's nose like he would the hand of a presumptuous first-year student reaching for a too-delicate fragment of bone.

He obviously wasn't thinking very clearly today.

The raptor pulled back quickly, indignant, evidently not used to that sort of treatment from anyone . . . or anything, for that matter.

Swallowing heavily, Alan sat back as the big head swiveled slowly around, staring at him with what looked for all the world like disappointment. The dark eyes were cold and unflinching, however, as the big raptor lowered his snout, closer and closer, until Alan was forced to lie down on the disturbed earth to avoid him. Slowly but inevitably, the jaws opened and latched onto Alan's exposed throat, very gently making the lightest of impressions with razor sharp teeth.

Alan froze, this time with his eyes wide open, as he waited to see what Alex would do. He swallowed around the light grip on his throat and kept extremely still.

Alex finally released him, having made his point quite effectively. He closed his jaws with a final resounding snap a few inches above Alan's throat and backed up enough to allow him to rise.

Alan rubbed his throat before struggling to his feet, keeping a wary eye on the miffed raptor. _Note to self: Slapping an alpha male velociraptor is an exceedingly **bad** idea._

* * * * *

Some indeterminable time later, Alan sat down heavily near the bank of a small stream. "Look, Alex, if you're going to carve me up for dinner, I wish you'd just do it here. 'Cause I don't know about you, but it's been one _hell_ of a long day."

The raptor paced around the perimeter of the encircling copse of trees in the midst of which Alan now lay sprawled, exhausted.

Alan looked around. An easily defensible area, he mused, if one had enough teeth and claws to go around. Their haven was in the center of an astonishing number of strangling fig trees. Starting as a small seed in the top of a host tree, the roots of the fig grew down and around their host tree, to an enormous size, until they eventually smothered it. When the host tree finally rotted away, what was left behind were the monstrous trunk-like roots of the fig with a hollow interior. Ellie, as the botanist, had always waxed poetic about the amazing trees, stating that they were the world's most perfect parasites.

He had never seen much poetry in parasites, but right now he was just content that the ring of massive trees would allow nothing much bigger than a 30-foot long ceratosaurus through their overlapping roots.

He sighed. Which only left about 25 or 30 so species of carnivores small enough to get through and eat him, including the member of the species now striding back to where he lay.

The big raptor looked around again, his head swiveling to peruse the sheltered area among the trees. With the tightly knit canopy above and no subsequent direct sunlight, the forest floor here was surprisingly free of undergrowth and debris. Combined with the small, clear-flowing stream, it was a small oasis in the midst of a gigantic wooded desert.

"See what I mean, Alex? Good spot, don't you think?"

The raptor glanced around once more, then threw his snout up in the air. He let out a series of loud coughing sounds which repeated several times. Not quite the call for help that Alan had heard before, it was less strident, less unsettling, but nonetheless Alan was sure that it carried for some distance in the profoundly calm forest air.

Alan sighed and lay back down, putting his good arm over his eyes tiredly. With his abominable luck, it probably meant, "Come and get it."

**************************

"Please come inside the chopper, Mr. Brennan."

Billy looked around at the host of bodies in jungle green fatigues and then at the pleasant Iowa-born medic who called to him from the waiting helicopter. Friendly, open and personable, the young petty officer had spoken to Billy for some time as he had dressed his wounds, patiently coaxing the preoccupied Billy into talking about any number of things -- his home where he grew up, the dig, the famous Dr. Grant. Billy supposed the man was attempting to cheer him up with the small talk, but all it did was grind home how much Billy's life seemed to center around the 'famous' Dr. Grant . . . and how much Billy missed him now.

The young medic held out his hand. "Please, sir, I'm sure we can come back when we're better prepared, better outfitted for a mission like this."

There was another deep-throated roar from nearby. The Marines had found out first-hand the dangers of self-assurance too near the forest edge, having lost one man of their perimeter guard and two others severely injured. While obviously a superbly trained and dedicated outfit, they didn't have the experience to operate against _this_ type of enemy. No one had.

Except maybe one person. Two, if he had his way.

Billy made his decision and accepted the hand of the young medic. Taking a seat near the open hatch, he calmly waited while the rest of the troops filed into the big Huey. He gave a weak half-smile to the Kirbys, who sat across from him, looking every bit as weary and bedraggled as he himself must look.

As the heavy rotors began to turn in preparation for take-off, Billy casually looked around the bay of the chopper as his hand slid into the straps of a discarded Marine field pack next to his seat. His attention returning to the front of the chopper, Billy happened to notice Eric Kirby watching him, the boy's eyes widening as Billy consolidated his grip on the pack.

Eric stared at Billy and then back outside to the nightmare he had just left. With only a moment's hesitation, he looked back at Billy and made a questioning upward movement with one eyebrow.

_Bless his heart._ Billy nonetheless made an emphatic half-shake of his head. He was impressed at how the boy had survived eight weeks on his own, but this was something Billy had to do himself. No sense in involving an innocent. He _would_ get Alan back. Damn it all, he would.

With no open seats available, the medic crouched near the front of the hatch, one hand firmly grasping a tie-down strap, his kit resting loosely under his right arm.

As patiently as any raptor, Billy waited.

As he knew they would, the Marines left the door to the chopper open as they began to lift off. Billy had a distant relative who used to be a helicopter pilot in Vietnam and had listened avidly to his seemingly endless stream of stories. Evidently standard operating procedure, this method had been used since helicopters were first invented to provide potential covering fire if needed. When they were a few feet off the ground, the pilot instinctively edged closer to the forest edge and away from the water in the first crucial moments of gaining altitude.

Seizing his chance, Billy leapt for the door, grabbing the medkit from under the arm of the stunned medic and shoving past the Marine covering their lift-off. Not expecting an attack from _inside_ the helicopter, the guard hesitated just a moment too long.

Billy tucked and rolled as he hit the warm sand, getting to his feet awkwardly with the two packs and running for the comparative safety of the forest.

As he reached the gloom of the forest proper, he realized this was probably the last feeling of safety he was going to have for a long, long time.

**************************  


"Even given the fact that the InGen creatures were genetically engineered, I remain convinced  
that the social interactions of 'real' velociraptors were quite complex. Since we can never get  
close enough to a raptor pack to see this firsthand, we will regrettably never learn the true  
extent of their social integration."

 

Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


It was nearly nightfall before the first of the raptor pack appeared. Gliding effortlessly through the breaks in the giant fig trees, they arrived like ghosts in the late evening mist, and it took Alan's exhausted mind a few moments to realize they were real.

He had taken the opportunity to drink from the small stream, hoping that whatever bacteria were present wouldn't give him dysentery . . . or worse. Sitting next to the stream with his back against a tree, he had taken a sharp flint-like river rock and used it to roughly saw off the remains of his lower pant leg, uncovering the wicked gash in his calf. He had then rinsed it and the bite marks in his arm as best he could.

When Alan had finished, Alex had approached, sniffing him before once again rubbing the underside of his jaw against Alan's neck. Alan knew somehow it was _not_ a gesture of affection, but he been unable to fathom what the odd behavior might mean.

Now, feeling utterly exposed and horribly vulnerable, Alan watched as the entire raptor pack gathered in the large clearing. Looking up from the sea of sharp claws milling around him, he was amazed to find that a great number of the raptors were carrying eggs in their formidable jaws. Alex must have thought this a good spot indeed if he saw fit to permanently relocate the pack here.

When the pack continued to steadfastly ignore his presence, Alan closed his eyes wearily. As the light began to fade in the gathering dusk, it was easier to track the raptors' movements with hearing, and he followed the chorus of chirps and soft growls that announced the pack's purposeful movements. When he detected the unmistakable sounds of claws digging into the soft soil bordering the creek bed, Alan re-opened his eyes and used the tree behind him to help lever himself to his feet. After his last run-in with the raptors and their eggs, he decided that sitting here amidst the new nests being built was a less than healthy proposition for him.

Alan backed slowly until he was close to the boundary of the encircling fig trees and shook his head. He marveled again at how he was still alive while surrounded by a pack of Nature's most efficient predators . . . until warm breath against the back of his neck made him pivot around awkwardly in alarm.

There was just enough diffuse light remaining for Alan to recognize the distinctively wide bands of lighter coloration that began over the eye ridges and extended down the long neck.

"Alex!" Alan bent over and tried to will his racing heart to slow. He glanced up accusingly at the big raptor, who as usual had appeared behind him without making a sound. Alex had done that several times during their journey when he'd disappear briefly to check something in the undergrowth only to reappear directly behind Alan. "Dammit, I wish to _hell_ you'd stop doing that. I'm damn well not as young as I used to be, you know."

Alex cocked his head, turning it slightly as if to better hear what Alan was saying. It was unsettling, the careful appraisal by those glinting eyes, even as their brilliance faded somewhat in the gathering gloom. It would be easy to assume it was the regard a mere animal would give to something that had captured its attention briefly, but there was so much more than that in this case. The male raptor was acting almost _curious_ \-- not confrontational as one expected in a predator/prey relationship -- and the implications regarding the lengths this raptor went to satisfy that curiosity led to _very_ unsettling notions about his species' intelligence.

Abruptly, amidst the muted sounds of the pack settling in, came the distinctive high-pitched squeal of the Harpy. She was close, very close. Alan straightened his spine slowly and turned toward the sound. As bad as facing her in the daylight had been, having a confrontation when all he could see were vague shapes and movements was even more disturbing. The darkness was not at all friendly here.

And Alan was sure that the Harpy, with her more acute senses, did not share his handicap.

As Alex whuffed his displeasure and paced around to interpose his body between Alan and the persistent threat, Alan turned his head and caught sight of a greater blackness on black amidst the tangle of roots where Alex had been standing. Backing carefully toward it, Alan realized he was at the base of an incredibly huge strangling fig . . . and the blackness, as he had hoped, was an entrance inside the hollow giant.

He hobbled quickly inside. Although even darker inside, there was just enough light remaining to see that the interior was quite large and that there was only one entrance between the tightly knitted roots. Having to guard from only one direction now, Alan sank wearily against the roughened bark of the far 'wall.'

A very brief time later he heard a distinctive baritone growl followed by a high-pitched squeal of pain, which somehow managed to sound both surprised and indignant.

Alan quirked one side of his mouth in amusement. "Good ole Alex," he muttered, as he fell at last into an exhausted, restless sleep.

* * * * *

Alan awoke when a shadow blocked the daylight that was creeping in from the doorway to his refuge. The shadow belonged to the older female who had rescued the first egg . . . the same egg, no doubt, that she carried now. Surveying the interior critically, she set the egg down carefully and paced over to where Alan lay. Alan stiffened in dismay as she stood over him, cocking her head. She lowered her wicked-looking snout so she could sniff around his head and neck, then raised her head back up, snorting softly. After a few seconds, she lowered her head again, cocking it slightly so she could examine him with one glinting eye. Alan could see her nostril quivering slightly in the muted light.

With a final disgusted-sounding snort, she rose and retrieved the egg, proceeding to a raised area near the right side of the chamber. Digging slightly with one hindfoot, she made the natural hollow of the soft soil slightly deeper, and then gently deposited the egg within.

She turned, bending over to clear the low entrance, and left without a backward glance. Alan was still trying to ponder the ramifications of that development when she returned with another egg, and Alex. The second egg was deposited next to the first, and then the elder female turned to Alex and proceeded to have what sounded like an extended, and very one-sided, conversation with the big male.

Alan had thought he'd already heard the total extent of the sounds the velociraptors could make, but this amazing range of sound couldn't be originating from the resonating chamber itself. They had theorized that raptors possessed an actual larynx from the shape of the skull and upper palate, and it seemed that they had theorized correctly. Perhaps the resonating chamber had evolved as merely an amplifier for their vocalizations during the hunt, but it also seemed to be an auxiliary part of their regular 'speech' as well.

He was still trying to puzzle that out when the female looked directly at Alan and ended her diatribe with a questioning note. Alex, his head lowered and cocked respectfully to one side, answered with a single low growl. She continued to inspect Alan critically for some time and then turned abruptly and left.

The big male let out an audible breath and relaxed his tense form slightly. It reminded Alan so much of his own relieved posture after one of his aunt's particularly vitriolic lectures on his chosen field of study that Alan had to laugh.

"I take it she's the matron of the family?" Alan asked, still chuckling softly, as the big head turned to him quizzically. "Trust me, you're never going to do anything good enough to please her totally," Alan added helpfully. "I've been there. I know."

Alex turned to the eggs, sniffing them before carefully rolling one to a position more to his satisfaction. He then turned and settled himself to the ground next to the eggs facing Alan, resting his nose on his extended forelimbs.

His sudden comprehension of the big raptor's protective mien stunned Alan. "Those are _your_ eggs, aren't they?"

The big raptor merely blinked, eyeing Alan with his intense gaze.

Alan rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Then that must have been your mate who died in the fight with the allosaurus. . . ."

He started to shake his head, even more unsure now why the big male had not killed Alan on sight for not only once, but twice, making off with his eggs. Alan stopped, however, when even that slight movement of his head made him dizzy and vaguely nauseous. Moving his good hand to his forehead, Alan sighed aloud at the obvious warmth he detected there. _Well, it's not like you weren't expecting it._

Moving his left arm around to where he could see it better, Alan winced at the angry-looking wounds. They were already draining slightly, and the skin was red and tight. The calf, as he slowly bent his right knee, looked even worse.

Alan sighed again. There was nothing much he could do about it. He decided that once he felt a little stronger, he would make his way to the creek and try irrigating the wounds again. It probably wasn't wise to stay in here for very long in any case. Even though he had actually held a hatchling velociraptor before on Isla Nublar, he wasn't keen on remaining in the general vicinity after having witnessed the baby pteranodons' feeding frenzy.

His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, and Alex lifted his head in surprise.

"No, I'm not trying to hold a conversation," Alan said. "Although I think my stomach is trying to tell _me_ something," he continued thoughtfully.

Fumbling with the bundle still attached to his belt, Alan laboriously untied it. Grimly noting the paucity of his supplies, he braced one tin between his knees and popped the vacuum seal open. Looking up quickly at the sudden blockage of light, Alan found that Alex had again soundlessly appeared at his side, evidently curious at the odd noises coming from his direction.

As Alan painstakingly attempted to consume what the military loosely described as spaghetti and meatballs with his fingers, he kept a wary eye on the raptor. He decided that if he were planning to stay here any length of time, he was going to need a 12 year old to assist him. Eric had been much better supplied than he was . . . and at least the boy had managed to find a spoon.

Alex edged closer so he could better scent the strange concoction that Alan was eating, sniffing curiously. Alan again followed the raptor's eyes as they traveled from the open tin to the few remaining ones by Alan's side and then to the shirt that Alan had carried the supplies in. The big male finally lifted his head and sank back on his haunches, staring for quite some time at nothing, as far as Alan could tell.

Alan supported his chin with his good arm on an upraised knee and said, "What are you thinking of, I wonder?" One glinting eye as the big head lowered back to Alan's level was the only response he got from the raptor.

Finishing his makeshift meal, Alan carefully stacked the remaining supplies in the open shirt for quick retrieval. Wishing he could put it off and knowing he couldn't, Alan attempted to get to his feet. Grunting in pain, he had to try twice before he could manage it, all his abused muscles having cramped up during the night.

Staggering to the entranceway and still leaning heavily on his ironwood staff, he paused in amazement at the vista before him. The far stream bank was now the home of half a dozen nests, all of them containing a large number of eggs. The clearing was busy with the comings and goings of adult raptors, while one of the males was very obviously standing guard over the area.

What Alan found more interesting was the fact that other than Alex's two, the remainder of the eggs seemed to be taken care of in a communal fashion, with one or two of the younger females keeping a watch on the eggs under the careful eye of the older female Alan had dubbed the 'Matron.' She looked up at Alan as he emerged from the hollow tree, but none of the other raptors seemed to be paying much attention to him. He could only assume that being accepted by the alpha male meant at least grudging acceptance by the other members of his pack -- with the very notable exception of the Harpy, of course, who appeared to be thankfully absent.

Carefully descending the slight slope to the stream, Alan painfully lowered himself to the bank. Drinking his fill with cupped hands, he then splashed some over his head, trying to reduce some of the effects of his fever. Alan eyed the stream speculatively, trying to figure out he was going to clean his wounds without getting the rest of himself soaking wet.

That problem was solved for him when a forceful nudge from behind sent him tumbling into the stream. Sputtering and pushing a water-drenched lock of hair from his eyes, he turned his head in ill-disguised anger to the perpetrator.

Expecting it to be Alex, Alan was surprised to discover a young adolescent male -- barely Alan's size -- his crest spikes still mere stubs at the top of his head. Bobbing his head up and down, the young male stepped from foot to foot, ready to dart away, obviously expecting Alan to participate in the game. Looking past him, Alan saw Alex watching from the entrance to the tree hollow, ready to intervene if necessary.

He needn't have bothered, for the young male was evidently not interested in _eating_ Alan. He bobbed his head down once more, making to nudge Alan again. Alan reached for the piece of ironwood that had accompanied his fall into the stream, hefting it carefully, but the young male was still bobbing and weaving his head on the stream bank -- very obviously _not_ in hunting mode. Shaking his head ruefully, Alan swung the club in a shallow arc in the water, spraying the young male with a cascade of water.

The youngster rose up and let out a gleeful squeal, shaking the water from his neck like a dog. Bobbing down again, he made an attempt to grab Alan's arm and Alan reflexively swatted him on the nose, although he did so gently and not without some measure of trepidation given his last experience. However, the young male evidently took this as part of the game and squealed happily again. When he bobbed down once more and this time managed to grab hold of Alan's arm with very careful teeth, Alan grimaced and quickly pulled the arm back, following this with a much harder slap to the nose and the admonishment of, "No!"

Sitting in the stream, soaking wet (again) and feverish, Alan had to smile at the obvious disappointment of the young raptor, still bobbing his head up and down as he whined piteously at Alan, seemingly contrite.

Behind Alan, the Matron let out a disapproving snort and Bob, as he inevitably _had_ to be named, lowered his head down one more time as he slunk across the clearing, still stealing backward glances at Alan.

Shaking his head at the odd situations he kept finding himself in, Alan set himself back to the task at hand. Scooping up a handful of the coarse sand lining the creek bed, he gritted his teeth, and holding the leg wound open as best he could with the injured arm, tried to clean the gash with the abrasive sand. He started the wound bleeding again as he did so, but he figured it was better than dying from rampant infection.

Breathing hard from pain and exertion, Alan repeated the action with his injured left arm, but these were puncture wounds, too small and too deep to be effective with this crude cleaning method. Sighing, he gave up and merely sat in the stream, allowing the cooler water to help stop his renewed bleeding.

Finally realizing that getting _too_ chilled would probably not be a good idea in his condition, Alan set his ironwood cane on the stream bank and struggled to get out. After his third attempt, dizzy and sick, Alan rested half out of the stream, panting, paradoxically angry at himself for his weakness.

Alan had decided that this was a perfectly fine place to rest until he felt a sharp nip on his neck. Looking up, he saw Alex's head snake into view, peering at Alan intently. Making one final effort, Alan pushed himself with his good arm to hands and knees, but knew he could go no further. Alex came around to his front and pushed up with his snout, forcing Alan to sit back on his haunches. Hissing in pain at the pain the position caused in his calf, Alan braced his good arm on his thigh and waited for the subsequent nausea to subside. The big raptor moved around to his right side and crouched down, again peering at Alan intently . . . and then he glanced back to his own flank.

Amazed, Alan stared back, not sure he believed the message the big male was trying to get across. Slowly, tentatively, Alan reached his right arm out to the raptor's back, ready to remove it in a hurry if he objected. Alex merely waited, as if he understood Alan's hesitancy, until Alan put more of his weight onto the warm flank. Alan felt the big male tense and then he rose slowly up, taking most of Alan's weight and waiting until the human was steady on his feet and had retrieved his cane before moving away. Alan stood dumbstruck at the stream bank.

"Damn," Alan said aloud. Every time he thought he knew what the boundaries were and what the big raptor was likely to do -- or not do -- the rules changed. Alan wondered what Billy would make of this strange situation, and if he would finally believe him when Alan tried to tell him just how intelligent this particular breed of dinosaur was.

But right now, Alan's immediate problem was finding another place of shelter that wasn't filled with raptor eggs. Regardless of the Harpy's personal antipathy, he had no desire to sleep out in the open in case one of the other raptors 'forgot' that Alan was to be tolerated in the pack hierarchy. Shelter, of course, was a dubious prospect at best unless he could find a tall enough tree to climb. Given his current state of health, it was very unlikely he could manage that, even if the raptors would allow him the time.

_Or would they?_ Looking around quickly, Alan realized that Alex was back inside the hollow tree with his eggs. He wondered if the rest of the raptors were paying any attention to him. Could it be as easy as just wandering off unobserved into the forest?

Feeling somewhat better as the nausea subsided, Alan slowly hobbled around the perimeter of the large clearing. While he was looking for another suitable hollow fig to use as shelter, he may as well see if he could quietly test that theory. Seeing a break in the tangled roots where a grove of giant palms had so far outlasted the figs' monopoly on light and nutrients, Alan weaved and squeezed his way through the intertwined trunks of the palms, finally finding himself through the maze and outside the circular grove of fig trees.

Looking back the way he came for any sign of pursuit, Alan nodded his head once in satisfaction when there were no calls of alarm or sounds of anything large trying to follow him through the twisted palms. He doubted the raptors would even be able to fit their bulk through the narrow path he had followed.

Relieved, he glanced around. It was raining again, as it did almost constantly in the deepest sections of the true rainforest, although no direct drops could make it through the tightly knit canopy above. The humidity was almost a constant 100 percent, and Alan had found the only way he could tell it was actually raining was from the muted tones of the rain hitting the leafy barrier some 100 feet above the ground. It was a restful sound, when one had the time to appreciate it, like the musical patter of a gentle spring shower on the tin roof of his childhood home.

The rain eventually found its way to its destination, indirectly, following the path of leaves and branches and trunks until it inched its way drip by drip to the forest floor. The leaves of all rainforest trees had tips to shed all the excess moisture, and Alan swore that every one waited until he passed underneath before unloading its measure of water onto him.

He hated being wet. He missed Montana, he missed the dry heat, he missed the dig . . . and God knew he missed Billy.

He sighed. No help for it. He may as well just get moving and simply plan on getting wetter. He was already soaked to the skin from his sojourn in the stream. Wanting to put as much distance between the raptor pack as he could, Alan turned . . . and bumped firmly into the solid, immovable form of his raptor shadow.

Alex just stood there, looking down at him from his greater height, his head held high and neck arched in regal disdain. After delivering to Alan a withering stare, Alex glanced over to his right and chirruped softly. There was an equally soft reply and another male raptor came from behind the trunk of a squat tree.

Alan sighed again as he recognized the raptor who had been 'on guard' when Alan had first emerged from the hollow tree. No doubt he had notified Alex of his missing 'guest,' although the speed and silence of their rapid response to his attempted escape unnerved him still.

He wondered if he would ever stop underestimating the raptors' abilities . . . and just how extensive those abilities might be.

The other male headed off in a direction at an oblique angle to where Alan had emerged. Alex bent his big head down to Alan's level and very clearly enunciated a variation of the tones that Alan now knew meant, 'follow me.' Obviously catering to the limited intelligence of the stupid human, Alex followed that command with a helpful nudge from a blunt nose, pushing Alan in the wake of other male.

Alan stumbled after him, weary and ill, wondering just how long this particular nightmare intended to last.

**************************

Once more finding refuge high in a broad-limbed tree, Billy braced his back against a 'V'-shaped hollow in the trunk below a magnificent array of orchids and tried to rest. He reflected grimly that all the time humans had spent evolving the posture to come out of the trees and walk erect seemed to be pretty wasted here in this particular environment. Although it was a decided effort to get himself and both packs up and down the trees, it was much safer than the alternative on the forest floor. None of the predators he had encountered had more than the most rudimentary climbing skills.

At least, none of the predators he had encountered so far. He tried to recall from his studies if there _were_ any dinosaurs with that ability. Alan would know, but Alan wasn't here.

Shifting uncomfortably, Billy grimaced as the holster for the pistol he carried caught on a branch. He was still trying to get used to the unfamiliar weight, although he had been pleased to have found it, along with several spare clips, as part of the supplies he had plundered with the Marine's pack.

He missed the once-despised megaphone that the Kirbys had used, as he had practically shouted himself hoarse calling Alan's name as he searched. He had managed to find quite a few of the local fauna, or more correctly, they had found him due to the noise he was making, but so far there had been no sign of Alan. Billy refused to be discouraged, however. It was a big island, but he would find Alan eventually.

He had to.

**************************

"While the Isla Nublar raptors can and did kill their own kind, it is still unclear whether  
this was typical velociraptor behavior or a byproduct of their captivity in a confined area.  
With their established pack-hunting behavior and at least limited communication skills, it is  
more likely they were able to provide food for their young and even injured pack members,  
assuming a readily available source of prey."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


As Alex prodded him helpfully into the muted daylight of the clearing, Alan stumbled and grabbed hold of a single palm near the clearing's edge. As he rested, trying to catch his breath, Alan eyed the discarded fronds the tree had shed onto the ground. He was not certain, since paleobotany was Ellie's field and not his, but he guessed this particular tree was one of the ancient varieties that InGen had resurrected. Its bark lacked the textured feel of modern palms and its primitive fronds were wider with the sections closer together.

Stooping to pick up one of the fronds, he found it to be relatively lightweight and more importantly, dry on the top surface. If he couldn't make it to the safety of tree limbs, at least he wouldn't have to lie on the wet ground.

Looking around for a place to deposit his latest find, Alan stumbled again when Alex again pushed him from behind.

Turning to face the big raptor, Alan said, "Don't worry, Alex, I'm not likely to make the mistake of wandering off again, at least not soon." He eyed the impatiently lowered head. "Somehow I gather I won't get off as easy next time."

Alex merely grunted and again nudged Alan in the direction of the hollow tree. Alan considered heading in a different direction, still not anxious to be in close quarters with the eggs, but decided that crossing Alex's wishes at this time was probably not the best idea. Sighing, Alan made for the tree, dragging the ancient palm frond with him.

Depositing it against the opposite wall from the nest, Alan watched as Alex settled himself to lie next to the eggs. Pausing at the doorway and raising an inquiring eyebrow at the big male, Alan gave the raptor plenty of time to object to his actions before he went back outside to collect more of the fronds.

He stopped as he re-entered the hollow, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Alex was lying in the same position, nose calmly resting on the ground . . . but the palm frond had moved. It was now lying next to the nest, across from the seemingly somnolent raptor instead of where Alan was sure he had placed it against the opposite wall.

Eyeing the big raptor suspiciously, Alan placed the second frond against the far wall and then walked over to the nest. Alex merely blinked at him as Alan retrieved the first frond and walked to the opposite side to place it on top of the other. Again pausing before exiting the tree, Alan looked over at the big male. Other than twitching a portion of his hide to repel a bothersome insect, Alex made no other move, seemingly disinterested.

Coming back with the third and final frond, Alan stopped again in the doorway in amazement. "What the hell?" he said aloud, dropping the frond as his good hand moved to his hip in a position unconsciously typical for him when he was disturbed or upset.

The previous two fronds had again moved back to the close proximity of the eggs, Alex was again in the same position, but this time he raised his big head and stared significantly at Alan as he stood in the doorway. Rising fluidly, the raptor strode over to Alan, retrieved the third frond and helpfully placed it over the other two. Moving the two strides to the other side of the nest, he once again settled himself down as if nothing had happened.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd really rather sleep at least some distance from your eggs," Alan said. There was no reply from the raptor.

_And why the hell were you expecting one?_ Alan thought as he stooped over to pick up one of the fronds. As soon as he started to straighten, however, there was a low warning growl from Alex. Alan glanced over at the big raptor and was not surprised to find that he was once again the object of an intense gaze. The mouth opened in a seemingly lazy yawn, but the sharp sound of the jaws crashing shut with more than usual force decided Alan against moving his makeshift pallet.

Resigned, Alan lay down on the dry fronds, warily watching the eggs lying in their soft mound of dirt. He pondered again the almost incomprehensible actions of his raptor companion. Although he certainly hadn't ruled out the possibility that Alex simply didn't want the kids to have to travel so far for their first meal, it just didn't quite add up. It wasn't like the distance would matter as Alan simply couldn't move fast enough to escape in any case. It was almost as if the raptor wanted Alan close to the eggs for another reason, but he was damned if he knew what that was.

Sighing, Alan realized he wasn't going to discover that reason any time soon. He pondered briefly if John Hammond had told them exactly how long the incubating period was for velociraptor eggs, but since Alan didn't know when the eggs were laid, it would do him little good in any case. Regardless, his body was demanding that he rest.

He figured Alex would let him know if anything important happened.

* * * * *

It was almost nightfall again when Alan finally awoke to the sound of something heavy being dropped next to his head.

His nose wrinkling at the smell of fresh blood, Alan wondered blearily if one of his wounds had opened up again. Struggling to sit up with his good arm, Alan looked over to see Alex waiting patiently next to him . . . and a good-sized chunk of _very_ fresh meat on the ground next to him.

It was fresh enough to be still bleeding, but at least it didn't look like anything that could have been human at one point.

Alex bent down and nudged the chunk of meat closer to Alan, chirruping a series of notes that Alan hadn't heard before.

_Great, now he thinks I'm a hatchling._ Alan scooted backward until he hit the root wall of the fig tree, trying to hold down the incipient nausea that the heavy blood smell invoked. "Ah, I appreciate the offer, Alex, but I ate earlier." He paused, still fighting down the nausea. "_Much_ earlier, thank God."

Alex still had his head lowered to Alan's level, and he cocked his head as if listening. Grunting softly, he then nudged the chunk of meat again in Alan's direction. Alan shook his head forcefully. Then, realizing with a guilty start that Alex would have no idea what the gesture meant, he decided to try something different. Alan had always been a good mimic, which was why he had been so impressed with Billy's demonstration of the resonating chamber, but he could only pray that he was a good enough mimic to pull this off. Well, he _had_ succeeded with the brachiosaurus call back on Isla Nublar, so it was worth a try.

Taking a deep breath, Alan did his best impression of the two-toned series of notes that Alex had used to decline the Harpy's request in the clearing.

Alex reared up in evident surprise, then lowered his head again quickly. He moved closer to Alan and made a soft chirruping noise that sounded for all the world like a question.

Alan repeated the notes, softer this time, and prayed that he wasn't saying something like, "Your mother was a tyrannosaurus." _That_ would be fun.

Realizing that staring into the big raptor's eyes while he refused the meal would only seem like willful disobedience on his part, Alan lowered his eyes and rounded his shoulders again, hoping that Alex wouldn't take offense at his 'no.'

Alan looked up when he heard the sound of sharp teeth latching unto flesh, and he finally relaxed his submissive posture when Alex took the offered meal into the far corner and proceeded to eat it himself. Alan watched, fascinated, at the almost delicate way the big raptor consumed his meal. Holding the chunk of meat with one hindclaw, he ripped off a good-sized portion of the flesh with his teeth, lifted his head in the air and then swallowed the meat practically whole.

It made sense since the raptor's teeth were designed more for tearing rather than chewing, but it still led to the fascinating conclusion that there had to be some method for the raptors to process the large chunks of food -- perhaps like a chicken or other bird. The fossilized raptors were too small to tell if they'd had gastroliths in their gullets like those discovered in some of the larger herbivorous dinosaurs. Alan doubted that this type of plant-grinding stone would be effective in a creature with a carnivorous diet, but it was still a fascinating theory.

Alan's thoughts were interrupted by the loud sound of his own belly rumbling.

Alex by then had finished the last of the meat, but he looked over quickly at the sound. Dreading that Alex would find another choice chunk for him -- and not take 'no' for an answer this time -- Alan reached over to his supplies still lying on his discarded shirt. Pulling on the shirt to get the tins in reach, Alan reluctantly chose the least nausea-provoking cans of his woefully inadequate supplies -- a tin of crackers. He opened the tin, again with its distinctive pop of the vacuum seal, and ate the contents slowly, praying they would stay down. Heaven knew he needed the nourishment, and he hoped that it would also mollify Alex somewhat if he actually ate something.

He had almost managed to finish the contents when he noticed that Alex was again hunched down next to him, gravely watching as he ate the crackers. Alan waved a cracker at the raptor. "I'd offer you some, but somehow I don't think it's at the top of your menu choices." Alan took a bite and grimaced at the flat taste. "Actually, it's not very high on my list either, but I guess I'll take it over raw meat any day." He looked over as the big raptor again moved his head closer and sniffed at the cracker. "Not that I didn't appreciate the thought, by the way."

Alex inspected the unopened can lying on his shirt and once again whuffed the 'query' notes that he'd used earlier.

Alan looked at him, baffled.

Alex used his nose to move the one remaining tin in Alan's direction, then looked directly in Alan's eyes and whuffed the 'query' again.

"Oh," Alan said. "I don't know if you're actually worried that I'm not eating enough or you're just trying to fatten me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, but this is all I can handle right now."

Cocking his head again to one side, Alex moved his head closer and breathed warmly on the side of Alan's face.

Pressing his back firmer against the wall, Alan said, "Right, guess I keep expecting you to understand me for some reason." Alan inhaled deeply and again made the two-toned sequence of notes that presumably meant 'no' in raptor.

Without the equivalent of a resonating chamber, Alan knew his accent must be horrible, but Alex seemed to get the message. He pulled back and watched Alan thoughtfully for a few moments before making his way to the other side of the nest.

Alan lay back down on his makeshift pallet and wished that he'd had the foresight to bring a couple of the fronds in to cover himself. Whether it was the fever or the cooling dampness of the night air, he was actively shivering now. He hoped that didn't mean the wounds were getting worse, but he just didn't have the energy to try to locate the fronds in the rapidly encroaching darkness.

He curled wearily onto his side and decided he'd take care of it in the morning.

**************************

"Humans put an inordinate value on possessions, and we are almost fanatically attached to  
them. This probably originates at an early age with a child's 'security blanket.' It's  
unfortunate that as we age, the definition of 'possessions' changes so much, because when  
was the last time you heard of a war fought over a 'blanky'?"

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Daybreak again found Billy Brennan lodged in a tree without having found the first sign of Alan or his possible whereabouts. Not that he was discouraged. No way. He wouldn't allow himself to succumb to that. Not when Alan might be relying on him.

And if there was one thing Billy was sure of, it was that he was _never_ going to let Alan Grant down again.

He had learned from bitter experience to drop the packs to the ground first before climbing out of the relative safety of the tree, since the noise was likely to bring any inquisitive predators close enough to where Billy could see them first. Of course, after watching the velociraptors set that trap with Udesky as bait, he doubted this tactic would be of much use against _them._

When several minutes had passed without the telltale rustle of the jungle undergrowth, Billy lowered himself down to the forest floor. Hefting the packs, he made sure the gun was easily at hand, but he was still reluctant to use it unless absolutely necessary. It wouldn't be of much use against the larger carnivores anyway, and the noise was just as likely to attract them.

Billy had tried to backtrack along the course where he had first seen the Kirbys, but it was a difficult task when you had to keep making rather large detours in order to save your own skin. He could definitely see Alan's point of view now: it was much easier to admire dinosaurs when they weren't trying so damn hard to eat you.

Nonetheless, Billy knew when he had finally arrived at the clearing where Alan and the Kirbys had confronted the pack of velociraptors.

For one thing, there was one very dead allosaurus lying amidst what looked like the remnants of a battlefield. There was also at least one dead velociraptor. Both carcasses had already been partially picked over, and Billy circled the remnants carefully, leery of the possibility of the equally dangerous scavengers that had to be close by with a potential feast like _this_ in the vicinity.

Billy searched carefully, his heart in his throat, looking for a set of much smaller remains.

He didn't find them, much to his relief, although he did find the smashed remains of the resonating chamber Alan had carried. Just as he had finished his circle of the clearing, he heard, not far off, the high-pitched chittering of a pack of what was most likely compys, and Billy decided he'd better not push his luck.

Taking one last look around, he saw something else lying half-buried in the churned-up earth. He had missed it the first time since it had been lying hidden, tucked inside the curve of the allosaurus' neck.

It was Alan's hat.

Billy clutched the fedora close to his chest, as he wondered where the hell Alan had taken off to this time.

He did know one thing, though. Alan Grant was _always_ miserable without his hat.

**********************************

"Many people have asked when I planned on writing an academic paper on my new 'knowledge'  
of dinosaurs. My answer has been, and always will be, that there hasn't been any _real_  
knowledge gained. My academic credibility would be totally nonexistent if I tried to  
theorize on real dinosaurs just from my experience on that godforsaken island."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


Alan awoke, feeling paradoxically content as he settled into the warmth against his back. He guessed it was again daybreak by the increase in the light level he noted behind his closed eyelids, but he really was too comfortable to make the effort at moving. Unfortunately, his bladder was not going to allow him to lie like this for long.

He stretched cautiously, dreading the tightness of abused muscles, and then froze when his leg met resistance that shouldn't be there. Opening his eyes abruptly, he encountered the glinting eye of a raptor from a distance of inches.

And as Billy would say . . . he freaked.

"Holy shit!" Still half-asleep, Alan jerked back from the close proximity of gleaming rows of raptor teeth and realized belatedly that there was absolutely nowhere he could go. The big raptor had wrapped himself completely around Alan during the night, and he was effectively trapped in the sinuous curve of his long frame.

"Dammit, Alex, are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" When the raptor didn't move or respond, Alan wriggled himself around, trying to get enough leverage with his good arm to get to his feet.

He stopped the movement abruptly when Alex's head lifted and pushed him back more firmly against the warm body. Settling his head down again inches from Alan's, the big raptor closed his eyes in blatant dismissal.

"Great," Alan said, trying to will his breathing to slow. He chuckled in spite of the situation. This would make one hell of an academic paper . . . and he didn't dare publish it.

Alan mimicked the annoying tenor of an old academic advisor:

_"And just **how** do you know that dinosaurs were warm-blooded, Mr. Grant?_

_"Because I slept with one, Dr. Collins._

_"I see. And was that before or after you had tea with the pink brachiosaurus, Mr. Grant?"_

Alan shook his head at his bout of feverish fancy. You'd think he'd have gotten used to Alex doing the unexpected. With a lopsided smile, Alan nudged the somnolent raptor with his good elbow. "You _do_ realize you're blowing my academic credibility all to hell, don't you?"

One eyelid opened lazily in response, then closed again.

"Somehow I think you _do_ know -- it's just not important to you." Alan sighed, trying to relax against the warm hide. "And just what _is_ important to you? And more to the point, why am _I_ here -- and why am I still alive?"

Alan's stomach chose that moment to rumble again -- loudly. For some reason, that seemed to rouse the indolent raptor more than Alan's aborted attempt at escape. Uncurling himself from around Alan, the big raptor straightened slowly to his full height, swinging his head from side to side as if attempting to get the kinks out. He eyed Alan for a moment, then paced to the wall and grabbed the corner of Alan's shirt in his teeth. He pulled the shirt and its contents over to where Alan was struggling to sit up, then sank back on his haunches expectantly.

"Okay, I got it. Breakfast is served, right, Alex?" Rubbing his good hand over sleep-filled eyes, Alan sighed and reached for the last remaining tin of rations. He briefly wondered what would happen after he had consumed this -- the last of his supplies -- and figured he would worry about that when the time came. If one were hungry enough, he imagined that even raw meat would start to look good.

Alan managed to choke down the brown mess that was supposed to be meatloaf and then held the empty tin up to Alex. "See. All gone."

Cocking his head again at Alan thoughtfully, Alex then eyed the now-empty shirt lying on the ground. Swiveling around toward the door, he lifted his head and barked out a short series of notes. When the head of an attentive male raptor appeared in the door, Alan surmised that the notes were some variation on 'come here.' He unconsciously filed away the sequence in his head.

Alan struggled to his feet as the two raptors chirruped back and forth. The other male was big, almost as large as Alex, but bore the scars of a long and hard life in a dangerous environment. He was deferential to the alpha male raptor, but not obsequiously so, and Alan wondered if he was the beta male of the pack.

Gauging from the looks Alan was getting from both raptors, _he_ was evidently the current subject of the conversation. Not at all sure he was comfortable with that thought, Alan hobbled closer to the opening of the fig tree, feeling the need for the illusory safety of 'outside.'

Alex finished with the sequence of 'query' notes and cocked his head at the other raptor. The other male bobbed his head once and uttered a softer reply, which Alan guessed to be 'yes' from the context. Seemingly content with that, Alex moved to the far side, picked up Alan's discarded shirt in his teeth and headed for the entrance of the enclosure. Before he stepped outside, however, Alex stopped to once again rub his lower jaw on Alan's neck before departing without a backward glance.

Irritated at the unexpected loss of his shirt -- and worried about being left alone with the strange raptor -- Alan called after Alex in annoyance, "And would you _please_ quit doing that?"

There was, of course, no response from Alex.

Not that he had expected one.

***********************************

"Death, of course, is the epitome of chaos, or the end of it, depending upon which side  
of the coffin you're on. There is nothing more guaranteed to throw one life into turmoil  
than the termination of another."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Billy didn't know if it were instinct or merely lack of any particular direction to head, but he decided to check the InGen laboratory for any sign of Alan. It was near there that Eric had made his hideaway in an overturned water truck, and it was at least possible that Alan would head in that direction.

If he were able to.

Billy shook his head angrily. No, he couldn't think like that. Alan was _alive_, damnit. He had to believe that. Alan may not want anything to do with Billy ever again after that fiasco with the eggs, and Billy may have destroyed the one relationship in his life that meant anything to him, but he _would_ bring Alan out of this mess.

Or die trying.

Billy had considered stuffing Alan's hat inside the pack he carried, but he was afraid he would damage the precious fedora by doing so. Alan was obsessively protective of that hat. So Billy had cleaned off the dirt-encrusted fedora as best he could and placed it firmly on his own head. He felt somehow closer to Alan while wearing it.

Besides, it kept the insects from dive-bombing his hair.

Billy found himself on the remnants of an old trail, obviously manmade as it cut straight as an arrow through the unforgiving jungle. It had been almost totally reclaimed by the light-starved plants after the InGen employees had either died or fled, but it was still easier than pushing through the untamed undergrowth without a machete.

He had just noticed the brighter light further up the trail that no doubt indicated the cleared area of the InGen compound when movement in the underbrush caused him to freeze in alarm. Billy ducked behind the trunk of a forest giant and held his breath, straining his eyes for the motion he had just barely glimpsed.

Whatever it was, it was nearly silent -- a difficult feat indeed in the lavish greenery, but it was relatively large since it had been the motion of one of the branches at his own height that he had caught out of the corner of his eye.

As Billy watched intently, he caught a glimpse of something besides disturbed undergrowth. Billy doubted he would have seen it even so, given the superb camouflage of the dinosaur's coloring, if it hadn't been for the glint of blue and white that stood out amidst the rainforest's redundant green on green.

The blue and white checks of the shirt that Billy had given Alan on his last birthday.

Of course, Billy noted unconsciously that it was a velociraptor that held the shirt in its serrated teeth, but it was the shirt that Billy focused his sole attention on. Alan's shirt.

The tattered, bloodstained shirt that was being carried so cavalierly in the raptor's formidable jaws.

"You miserable, fucking, _murdering_ bastard!" Even as Billy's eyes filled with unshed tears, he stepped out from behind the tree, pulled the gun from its holster and leveled it at the raptor's head.

The raptor swung its big head around impossibly fast at the sound of Billy's outburst and slipped out of sight before Billy could even get a shot off.

Billy ran after it, not caring about his own safety, not caring about much of anything else but destroying the creature that had killed the most important person in his life.

He figured he had a least a _chance_ of killing it before he was torn apart by the rest of the pack.

*********************************

"The velociraptor specimens we've found have led us to believe that their young developed  
very slowly and thus required nurturing for much longer than originally believed. This no  
doubt added to the raptors' complex social structure, but to what extent, we'll probably never know."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


After Alex's rather abrupt departure, Alan turned apprehensively to face the beta male raptor. "So now what?" Alan said as he backed slowly out the entrance. "I hope to hell you've eaten recently, because I'd really hate to make it this far just to end up as somebody's breakfast special."

The raptor followed him, keeping an eye on Alan as he stopped just outside the doorway. The raptor approached Alan almost deferentially, with his head lowered but not so low as to indicate an imminent attack. Alan held his breath as the big male stopped right in front of him, lowered his head further and then audibly sniffed the back of Alan's neck.

A belated light dawned, and Alan would have slapped the side of his own head if he wasn't so worried about alarming the raptor. "Alex was marking me," he said with a hint of anger at his own obtuseness. "That damned arrogant son of a bitch was _marking_ me." Alan sank down to the ground in front of the tree as he let that thought soak in . . . with all its permutations. No wonder the other raptors had left him be -- well, with the notable exception of the Harpy anyway.

But was Alex marking him _just_ to let the other raptors know he was off-limits as a food source? It didn't make sense considering the evident complexity of their language skills. Alex could have easily had just told them he was on the non-edible list when they had first gathered in the clearing.

Alan's eyes widened and then he laughed sharply. "Could be worse, I guess. Raptors could mark their territory by urination." He looked skyward with a lopsided grin. "Praise the Lord for small favors."

The male raptor walked backwards a few paces, then sank to the ground a few feet away from Alan, still watching him intently.

"And I take it you're my bodyguard, hmmm?"

The big male eyed the clearing carefully before returning his attentive gaze on Alan.

Just to see what he would do, Alan chirruped the 'greeting' notes he'd heard other raptors make when encountering another member of the pack.

The big male reared back quickly on his haunches in the same manner that Alex had when Alan had first 'spoken' with him. It was evidently a gesture of surprise among the raptors. The raptor eventually replied with a very subdued 'query' tone, as if not quite believing the prey animal was actually talking to him.

The first night in the clearing, Alan had heard a newcomer's response to the sentry's challenge, and he now replied with those same lower key notes of what he'd assumed meant 'friend.' Alan grinned when the raptor again lifted his head in blatant surprise. "Yes, boys and girls, the stupid human _can_ be taught."

The raptor finally responded with a complicated series of sounds that Alan had no hope of interpreting.

Alan held up one hand. "Whoa, whoa, big guy. I don't claim to be a native speaker yet."

Once the raptor settled back down to the ground, Alan said, "Since we're now on quasi-speaking terms, I guess this means I'll have to come up with a name for you." He watched the attentive raptor for a few moments, then said, "I wonder if you have a name in raptor, or is identification among your pack strictly by scent and sound?" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter, I guess. I probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it, if you did. Well, you look like a 'Jeff' to me. What do you say, hmm? It sure beats 'beta male,' if that's even what you are."

Alan sighed aloud when the big male merely stared at him. "Billy always did say the most he's ever heard me talk was to the dinosaur bones themselves. Guess things haven't changed so much, after all." He drew an abstract design with one finger in the soft soil. "That's the problem with impending old age, you know. If you can't find someone to talk to, you just end up talking to yourself."

He was interrupted in his incipient depression by a familiar gleeful squeal. He turned his head just in time to see Bob skid to a playful stop in front of him. The adolescent was obviously happy to see his prospective playmate out and about, and he warbled a greeting to Alan to which Alan immediately replied.

To give the youngster credit, he was much less surprised at hearing Alan 'talk' than the adults. Maybe it was just the adaptability of youth. Lord knows, Billy always seemed to take the new aspects of their field in stride much easier than his mentor did. Alan smiled. Talk about feeling like a dinosaur.

Bob slung his head down and nudged Alan gently in the chest, then pushed a little harder with another happy squeal when Alan rubbed the surprisingly soft nose. Hell, it was beginning to look like Ellie was right, and Alan _was_ good with kids, although this particular kid would likely have 'plays well with others' on his report card in any case.

"What's the matter, Bob? Don't you have anyone your own age to play with?"

Bob responded by making his trademark up and down motions with his head, then grabbing Alan's good arm with gentle teeth and attempting to coax him to his feet.

Come to think of it, Alan really _hadn't_ seen another youngster in the pack. Considering the number of eggs the pack was currently nurturing, it seemed odd, to say the least. Perhaps there had been some earlier mishap to either the eggs or the young ones of Bob's generation? It would certainly explain the almost obsessive watchfulness of the pack with this batch of eggs.

Alan tugged back on his arm, and the young raptor immediately let go but still continued to make his excited bobbing motions.

Laughing, Alan said, "Okay, okay, I really ought to get a drink of water anyway. Just give me a minute here." He looked around for his makeshift cane, and not seeing it close by, he attempted to get to his feet unaided.

That was a mistake.

He gasped in pain, then looked down at the nastily infected gash on his calf and sighed. He wasn't going anywhere without a little help. Bob slung his nose down and chirruped the notes for 'query.'

Alan paused. Would this work? Could he actually make the youngster understand he needed assistance to get to his feet? Alex had done it without prompting, but the alpha male was a lot older and wiser than the adolescent now staring at him so intently.

Softly, so as not to alarm the pack, Alan cupped his hands and tried the coughing sounds that the raptor at the InGen compound had used to call for help. The effect on the young raptor was immediate. He put his big nose into Alan's face and made the 'query' sounds again, obviously distressed this time.

Alan petted the nose, then reached upwards and pulled slightly on the youngster's neck to urge him closer. Bob obligingly sidled alongside, and Alan tentatively put a little weight on the youngster's neck.

Bob chirruped a happy note, seeming to get the message as he pressed even closer to Alan's side and lowered his neck further.

Alan wrapped his arm further around the raptor's neck and Bob rose up, taking Alan with him. Alan swayed, slightly dizzy at the rapid motion, and the youngster turned his agile neck to look back enquiringly at Alan.

"I'm all right, Bob." Alan pointed at the direction of the water, and the raptor's sharp eyes followed the direction of his pointing finger.

Bob warbled the 'query' notes again, followed by another distinct series of tones.

"Okay, I hope that means 'water,' or else I'm in for a nasty surprise." Alan repeated the raptor's last series of tones followed by the 'yes' notes.

The young raptor bobbed his head enthusiastically. Looking over at the still intently watching Jeff, the young raptor chirruped a 'query,' evidently asking the older male for permission. When the big male simply settled his nose onto his forelegs, Bob chirruped another happy note and started out rapidly toward the stream.

About to be dragged off his feet by the enthusiastic youngster, Alan tugged at Bob's neck, and he obligingly shortened his strides so Alan could keep up.

They reached the stream and Alan gratefully settled on its bank. "And yet another small step toward inter-species communication." Not knowing how to say 'thank you' in raptor, Alan settled for reaching up and rubbing the spot on Bob's nose that he seemed to enjoy having scratched.

The youngster settled down at Alan's side and playfully nudged him in the back.

Alan cuffed him lightly. "Oh no, you don't, Mister. I'd like to get a drink _before_ you push me in, if you don't mind."

Cupping his hands into the water, Alan drank his fill. Feeling more than a little dusty, he poured the next handful over his head. Unfortunately, he realized too late that was a mistake when the young raptor lunged suddenly to his feet and plunged himself into the shallow stream, soaking Alan with a massive deluge of water.

Still sprawled haphazardly in the stream, the raptor lifted his head to Alan's level and squealed a happy 'query.'

Spluttering, Alan wiped the water out of his eyes and couldn't help but laugh at the youngster's antics. "Okay, Bob. You win. Somehow I don't think I could top that right now."

Bob climbed out of the stream and sank down next to Alan -- thankfully without shaking the excess water off his hide. Now that he'd gotten the upper hand in their water battles, the youngster seemed content just to lie there and watch Alan.

Alan carefully inspected the wounds on arm and calf, then shook his head when he realized there was little more he could do for them. Trying to rinse them obviously hadn't done any good, and for all he knew, the water in the stream was teeming with harmful bacteria as well. The rainforest tended to promote _all_ forms of life, not just the larger, more conspicuous ones like the young raptor snapping playfully at insects by his side.

Rubbing his chin in what had become a nervous habit to him, Alan grimaced at the feel of beard stubble. Well that, at least, he could do something about. Reaching down into the stream, he found another thin piece of flint that he used to get the worst of the beard off his face. Since the flint was much too thin and brittle to use as any type of a weapon, he tossed it back into the stream when he'd finished. Rubbing his chin again, he realized it wasn't perfect, but he'd had worse shaves after he'd been drinking too heavily the night before. Billy had told him after one miserable morning-after acquaintance with the toilet bowl that Alan was obviously a teetotaler at heart.

Closing his eyes at that memory, Alan spared a few moments to again pray that his young protégé had managed to find a way off this godawful island. Alan had pretty much given up on the thought of making it out himself, and he hoped that the young grad student would remember him. Maybe it wouldn't be fondly, considering those last hateful words that Alan had said to him in the pteranadon's eyrie, but Alan hoped that he would remember him . . . in some manner at least.

Damn, now he was getting maudlin. It was just so hellishly depressing to die all alone.

A warm nose nudged him in the arm as Bob chirped an enquiring sound.

Well, maybe not _totally_ alone.

Sighing, Alan wrapped his good arm around Bob's neck and levered some of his weight on it. He didn't want the youngster to get sidetracked by something else and leave him stranded in the middle of the clearing. Alan never let himself forget that he was nothing more than a tasty interloper in this dangerous little microcosm of dinosaur society.

Bob slowly walked Alan back to the entrance of Alex's nest, but Alan guided the young raptor inside first so he could pick up his makeshift crutch. As bad as his leg was getting, he didn't think he'd be walking without it anymore, even for short distances.

Alan leaned against the outside of the tree and listened with half an ear as Jeff barked some type of command to the youngster. Bob immediately lowered his head, warbled a soft 'yes' and strode out of the clearing on whatever errand he'd been sent on.

Needing to answer his own call of nature, Alan hobbled past Jeff through a tiny gap at the far side of the big fig tree and tended to necessities. He didn't need to see the big male to know that he had followed and was peering at him through the gap in the trees. There was something about having a raptor staring at you that immediately raised the hair on the back of your neck. Maybe it was something instinctual left behind from ancient mammalian genes, but it was most definitely there.

_And_ it seemed to make certain bodily functions harder to complete.

When Alan finally made his way back to the tree, he took care to have his own neck partially bowed submissively as he passed the big raptor, not wanting to take any more chances than necessary with Jeff's tolerance of a human in the pack's midst.

Alan had just returned to the front of the tree when he heard the first of the gunshots.

**********************************

"Many people would say that anger is a leading contributor to chaos, but they'd be wrong.  
It's not surprising, since it's my experience that people are wrong most of the time.  
Anger may be a more _visible_ emotion than love, but ask any victim of an avenging lover  
which is worse, and they'll tell you -- if they're still capable of speech, that is."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Billy grabbed hold of a tree and gasped for breath. He looked up, searching for convenient handholds into its branches. It had been surprisingly easy to follow the raptor, since he caught fleeting glimpses of the creature as it moved sinuously between the trees. He had even managed to get off a few rounds, but he could never seem to get close enough for a clear shot. Billy had chased it far from the InGen compound before he'd finally lost sight of it along one of the ridge tops.

The forest was still dense here, but he might be able to catch sight of the raptor if he could get high enough.

Billy realized later that if he'd been thinking clearly, he might have wondered why a dinosaur whose name meant 'speedy thief' would be so easy to follow by a human on foot.

He had just holstered the pistol and reached up to grab a branch when he heard as well as felt the low, vibrating growl behind him.

Turning his head slowly, Billy came face to face with the raptor he had been hunting.

Knowing he'd never make it with the raptor this close, Billy lunged for his pistol anyway. He really didn't have much to lose at this point.

Roaring, the raptor knocked him over with one powerful swipe of his snout, then stepped on his gun arm with one hindfoot after Billy fell to the ground.

When Billy tried to reach with his other arm for the gun, the big raptor flexed his toe claw in an obvious warning and lowered his nose to Billy's throat.

"Go ahead and eat me, you damn bastard. I'll make sure you get the worst case of indigestion you've ever had on my way down."

The big nose lowered further, but then the raptor pulled back quickly as if in surprise. Billy watched, mystified, as the raptor again lowered its head, nostrils quivering. Billy realized, belatedly, that the raptor was sniffing his head.

No, _not_ his head. Alan's hat.

His eyes unaccountably filling with tears, Billy said, "What? You think your last meal has come back to haunt you?" Angrily, he punched the raptor as hard as he could on the nose with his free hand. "That's for Alan, you fucking son of a bitch."

Snarling, the raptor reared up and then lunged for Billy's throat.

Knowing it was no use, Billy reached for the trapped gun anyway.

At least he and Alan would finally be together again.

*********************************

The raptor pack milled around uneasily at the sounds of the gunshots. Obviously, the raptors had at least some idea of what that particular noise meant. Although the shots had been fairly far off, they were taking no chances. Jeff called out orders, and several of the raptors left in the direction of the shots, presumably a scouting party. A short time later, Bob returned from whatever errand he had been sent on.

Jeff's head swiveled ever-so-slowly around to look Alan directly in the eye. Evidently they realized that humans were the _origin_ of those sounds, as well. That little fact wasn't making Alan feel any safer with Alex temporarily out of the picture.

When things began to fall apart for the InGen employees, Alan could easily imagine they would have tried to eliminate the raptors first, knowing their formidable level of intelligence. Oh yes, Alan guessed these raptors were _very_ familiar with the sound of gunshots.

Jeff continued to stare belligerently at Alan until their tableau was broken by the unmistakable coughing tones of the raptor call for help.

Since the pack was already agitated, the effect was immediate. Barking orders, Jeff sent the entire pack in the direction of the call. Skidding to a stop in front of Bob, he gave the command that meant, 'Stay here,' and Alan abruptly found himself alone with one keeper -- and that only a young adolescent.

Unfortunately, Alan had recognized the voice of the raptor who had just called the pack away.

And he had a nasty suspicion that she didn't need any help at all.

*******************************

Just before the rending teeth could close on his throat, Billy heard the distinctive sounds he'd heard a raptor make once before in the InGen compound.

The big raptor above him heard it also. Swinging his head around to the distress call, he listened for a few seconds, then snarled. The raptor looked from Billy to the forest then back again, and Billy thought once again that he was about to die. It had taken only seconds for the raptor to finish off Udesky, after all. Hardly an inconvenience for such an efficient predator.

However, this raptor seemed to have other plans. Taking one last sniff at Alan's hat, the raptor shook his head violently and growled again, then rose up and headed back into the forest. Amazingly, he stopped to nose at something lying on the forest floor before he answered his packmate's call for help. It took the raptor precious seconds before he once again lifted his head and moved off into the forest.

It took the shell-shocked Billy a moment or two longer to recognize that it was Alan's shirt once again in the raptor's jaws, but from this distance he could also see that there was something wrapped _inside_ the shirt.

_What the hell?_

**************************************

"The raptors were by far the worst of the carnivores on the island. While it was terrifying  
to face a full-grown tyrannosaurus, the intelligence and pack-hunting techniques of the raptors  
made them much more dangerous. If you attempt to freeze to avoid the notice of a velociraptor,  
it'll just thank you for making its job easier before it eats you."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


"I have a bad feeling about this, Bob." Alan backed up against the outside of the fig tree, bracing his back against the trunk and gripping his ironwood staff tightly in his hand.

Bob seemed to be taking his guard duty seriously, scanning the forest boundary for threats, his tail lashing slowly in his agitation.

"If I had a suspicious mind -- and you can ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I do -- I'd suspect _that_ particular call for help was nothing of the kind." Alan edged around toward the entrance of the hollow tree. "It would take a lot of patience and a truly devious mind, but if I wanted to get rid of one particularly annoying human who'd made a fool out of me, right about now would be the perfect time."

He heard a high-pitched, off-key growl from the far side of the tree, and Alan squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "Damn, but I hate it when I'm right."

Alan turned to face the Harpy as she paced toward him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Bob chirped the 'greeting' tones to her, too young and inexperienced to realize that a member of his own pack could possibly be a threat.

That was all right, Alan didn't want Bob involved in this. While also relatively young, the Harpy was larger, stronger and far more experienced. The young male wouldn't stand a chance against her, especially considering he would be reluctant to harm another member of his pack, at least at first.

Alan knew that taking his eyes off the Harpy for even a moment wasn't a good idea, but he turned toward Bob and made the distinctive tones for 'danger' he had heard the pack use earlier.

Thoroughly confused now, Bob made a disturbed-sounding 'query' tone, shifting closer, and Alan repeated the 'danger' message again.

_Damn, but I should have figured on his stubborn streak._ Before Alan could do anything else to send the young male away, the Harpy made her trademark shriek and lunged for Alan.

If she'd expected Alan to repeat his earlier instinctual move of interposing his arm to fend off her attack, Alan didn't oblige. Dropping down at the last moment, he lunged upward with the staff, catching her in the softer underside of her throat. She threw her head back in pain and surprise, backing up a few steps, and Alan tried to follow through with another blow to the side of her head.

Unfortunately, his injured leg wouldn't support the maneuver, and he only got off a glancing blow as he fell to the ground.

Insanely furious now, the Harpy lunged for him as Alan rolled away from her, toward the entrance of the tree, trying to put some distance between them. He knew he'd never make it.

As Alan tried to turn and block with the staff again, the Harpy was knocked off her feet as Bob slammed hard into her flank.

The force of his impact sent them both careering down the small slope toward the stream. Snapping at Bob's eye ridge as they rolled, the Harpy twisted her body and raked the adolescent's flank with the deadly sickle claw on her left hindfoot.

Bob screamed in pain, getting awkwardly to his feet and backing slowly from the Harpy, his head darting side to side in his confusion.

The Harpy was evidently furious at the youngster for interfering with her kill, growling continuously and flexing both sickle claws as she stalked the young male. The gash in Bob's side looked bad, and Alan doubted he'd be able to survive another bout with the hyped-up female.

The Harpy lowered her head and flexed her back in preparation for her final lunge, and Alan lurched to his feet. Yelling, he tried to distract her, knowing she was going for the killing blow and very much afraid she'd succeed.

She glanced back at Alan, and he could almost see the thoughts rolling through her mind. If she killed the upstart youngster first, she could then kill the hated human slowly and at her leisure. She stared directly into Alan's eyes, long and hard, and there was a promise hidden deep in their black depths. Alan knew that neither he nor Bob had much longer to live.

When the Harpy turned back to Bob to finish what she'd started, Alan lurched down the hill into the fray. He didn't have time to reach her head as she began her lunge, but he hit the back of her spine as hard as he could with the staff. "All right, bitch. It's me you want -- come and get me."

Shrieking, the Harpy spun and lunged for Alan's throat. This time he held the staff in both hands, trying to fend off the razor-sharp teeth as she knocked them both to the ground in her fury.

Behind them, Bob called for help before once again throwing himself at the Harpy.

She was insane, she had to be, as she completely ignored the attack by the young male to concentrate on getting to Alan. She was actually attempting to gnaw through the tough ironwood, but Alan knew she needn't bother. His brief adrenaline surge had left him, and his injured left arm finally gave out. She tore the staff from his other hand, flinging it to one side and then shrieked again. She could have torn open his stomach at any time with the sickle claw, but she evidently wanted to truly finish what she'd started. She paused only briefly to knock the weakened Bob to one side before lunging for Alan's throat.

An enraged bellow erupted from just outside the line of trees, and Alex emerged at a full run. Back on Isla Nublar, Muldoon had told him that raptors could reach cheetah speeds out in the open. Alan hadn't quite believed him then, but he certainly did now. Alex hit her like a freight train, knocking them both to the ground as they rolled across the clearing.

The Harpy was still clever for all her single-minded obsessiveness. She knew this was a battle she couldn't win, and as soon as she got back to her feet, she lunged for the palms on the side of the clearing that Alan had once used to make his 'escape.' She was barely able to squeeze through the intertwined trunks, but she must have known Alex didn't have a prayer with his much larger bulk.

Alex screamed his fury, and he started to go around the dense copse of trees after her. Bob's pain-filled warble as he tried to get to his feet stopped him. He looked back at Alan and Bob, then at the trees through which the Harpy had fled.

Alan sat up painfully. "You're afraid she'll come back through to finish what she started if you try to detour and go after her, aren't you, Alex?" The raptor looked at him and back at the forest, bellowing his anger again. "Well, if it means anything, I think you're right. She seems just a tad obsessed about removing me from the gene pool. Not that I plan on contributing to that anytime soon, mind you."

Throwing his head up in the air, Alex called the pack then trotted over to where Alan sat on the ground. Luckily, the fight hadn't come anywhere near the nests on the other side of the stream. Alex nosed Alan carefully, evidently checking him over for injuries.

Alan gently pushed his head aside. "I'm okay, Alex, just a few more cuts and scrapes. Another day in paradise, so to speak." He jerked his head to indicate Bob, who had just managed to get to his feet. "Check out my would-be bodyguard over there. I think he got the worst of it."

Alex did so, tapping his head gently against Bob's before checking out the long gash on his side. He warbled the 'query' tones, and Bob replied with a different set of notes that must have meant something like, 'I'm okay,' because Alex nudged the young raptor once more before trotting away to pace watchfully around the perimeter of the clearing as he awaited the return of the pack.

Bob limped painfully over to where Alan still sat on the ground, nosing him gently and making a very distressed 'query' sound.

Alan rubbed his nose affectionately. "I'm all right, tiger. Thanks to you." Alan took the opportunity to take a closer look at the gash on the young raptor's side. It certainly looked nasty, but although long, it didn't appear as deep as he had originally feared. As long as the wound didn't get infected, Alan was hopeful that the youngster would be okay. "Your first battle scar, huh? Too bad it had to come from one of your own."

The rest of the pack started to file back into the clearing, including an abashed-looking Jeff. Alex trotted up to his second-in-command, head held high, nostrils flaring, tail lashing angrily. Jeff had his head down in the submissive posture, obviously aware he had not pleased the alpha male with his actions, and this seemed to appease Alex somewhat. However, Alex still barked what sounded like a very aggrieved message and snapped at the smaller male's neck.

Jeff wisely did not reply, meekly accepting the rebuke. Alex looked back at Alan and growled something else to Jeff, who obediently warbled the 'assent' tones and moved over to where Alan sat.

Trotting over to Alan's staff, Alex picked it up and carried it to Alan.

Alan took the staff, eyeing the impressive number of tooth marks on it with a rueful smile. "I guess this makes this my lucky staff." He looked up at the big raptor. "_Thank_ you, Alex. I owe you one."

Alex eyed him for a few seconds, then lowered his head and sniffed Alan's head. Alan sighed as the raptor bent further and rubbed his lower jaw against the back of his neck. When he finished, he gently nudged Alan in the chest and whuffed a very soft 'query' tone.

Alan sighed again, shaking his head in utter bemusement. He had always been fascinated by raptors, even after his horrid experience on Isla Nublar, but he would never, ever have believed he would actually feel _protected_ by a member of this extraordinarily dangerous breed of predator. When Alex repeated the 'query,' louder this time, Alan imitated the set of sounds that Bob had made.

This seemed to satisfy Alex, as with a final lingering glance, he headed back into the forest. Alan was somewhat surprised at his departure, but Alex evidently didn't go very far. Alan barely had time to struggle to his feet and reach the entrance to the tree hollow before the big raptor returned.

With Alan's shirt in his jaws.

Alex trotted into the clearing, head swiveling attentively, surveying the still-milling pack before he headed toward Alan. Pushing Alan gently into the tree hollow, he waited until Alan had sat down next to the nest before he lowered his head and carefully laid the shirt out on the ground.

The tins of food inside barely even rattled when Alex set them down.

Alan simply stared at the raptor, dumbfounded. It was amazing enough that Alex was able to recognize the different sized and shaped tins as 'food' for Alan, but to search them out, accumulate them in one spot, and then carry them using Alan's shirt went beyond simple mimicry of Alan's earlier actions. It required the ability to correlate previous actions into a different set of parameters. It required the ability to either remember where he had seen something similar before, or more likely, to extrapolate where he was most likely to find them now.

Hell, by wrapping the tins in the shirt, the raptor had effectively used a _tool_ to accomplish this task.

And when you add the fact that the Harpy had created an actual _diversion_ to get to Alan. . . .

Alan shook his head. No, he wasn't likely to underestimate raptor intelligence again. "Can I just say I'm glad you're on _my_ side, Alex?"

Snorting, Alex helpfully rolled a tin in Alan's direction, and Alan laughed.

He held up the tin in mocking salute to the raptor. "Who am I to say no to a dinner invitation?"

*****************************

"Love is a chaotic thing. It just is. There has to be a reason that Valentine's Day  
involves cutting out hearts and giving them to your true love. It's downright morbid.  
Makes you wonder what the Aztecs did to show their love and devotion, doesn't it?"

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Billy cursed out loud, for once not caring if he made any noise. He had come to the reluctant conclusion that not only had the raptor managed to lead him on a wild goose chase, he had led him on a wild goose chase in the wrong damned _direction_.

He was lost, plain and simple. Billy supposed he should just find the river and make his way back to the coast, but he couldn't make himself do it.

Because too late, _far_ too late, Billy allowed himself admit that this mentor -- his friend -- had meant much more to him than that. Billy had willfully blinded himself to a lonely future after the dig, after his doctorate, after _Alan_, because it was simply too painful a prospect to imagine. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge certain facts -- didn't want to 'rock the boat' and risk the relationship they'd had. He was afraid Alan would think his feelings were a young man's crush, if he didn't punch Billy's lights out first. Hell, Billy knew that he _definitely_ didn't have Dr. Sattler's curves.

So Billy had stuck his head in the sand and basked in the man's presence without ever letting him know just how much Billy needed him, wanted him.

Loved him.

Billy knew there was no longer any reason to keep searching, that he was unlikely to ever find Alan's remains. He wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to find them, but Billy owed it to Alan to find his killer. And he'd do that.

If it were the last thing he did.

*******************************

After Alan had finished his meal, he looked up to find Alex eyeing him purposefully. "What, Alex?" He held up the empty tin. "See, I was a good boy and finished my supper."

The raptor merely lowered his snout to sniff the wounds on Alan's arm and leg.

Alan looked at them himself, reluctantly. The skin of both was tight, hot and red. There was pus draining from the bite marks on his arm, and the reddish discoloration on his calf was already up past his knee. So much for his idea about investigating the origin of the gunshots and who might be firing a gun so far into the center of the island. Alan wasn't a doctor, but he knew he wasn't up to an extended search of the rainforest right now, even if Alex let him.

However, he did know he was likely to lose a limb to gangrene at some point if he didn't get help soon. "Don't suppose you know what 'antibiotic' means, do you, Alex?"

Alex looked from Alan to the eggs, then back to Alan. He seemed to have come to some kind of decision as he walked to the entrance of the tree and barked the 'follow me' command.

Alan sighed wearily. Well, it looked like he was in for a hike anyway. Alan knew it wouldn't do any good to argue with the raptor, but he was at a loss to guess what Alex had planned now.

And damn, but he was tired.

Alan reached for his lucky staff, but he nearly fell when he tried to get to his feet. The latest run-in with the Harpy had evidently damaged the few remaining muscles that had escaped previous injury.

The raptor was instantly by his side, and Alan gratefully allowed him to help him to his feet. Alan put the staff under his arm and waved one hand negligently at the door. "Lay on, Macduff."

* * * * *

After almost half an hour of trampling through underbrush after Alex, Alan decided that dying of rampant infection was probably preferable. Alan was hot, tired, feverish, and he kept making sidelong looks into the forest, half-expecting the Harpy to appear and snap his head off.

Hell, at this point, he was almost wishing she would.

They had been climbing steadily, and as some of the dense vegetation thinned, Alan could see signs of semi-dormant volcanic activity. He had enough knowledge of geology to recognize the steam-venting fumaroles and the remnants of an old pyroclastic flow where the vegetation had grown up through furrows in the lava's deposition. He knew Costa Rica to be part of the so-called 'Pacific Ring of Fire,' but he hadn't read anything of recent volcanic activity on this particular island.

God. At least he hoped not.

Alex disappeared through a particularly dense area of vegetation, and Alan followed him wearily.

And nearly fell into a pool of dark gray, viscous-looking mud lying half-hidden in a thicket of ferns and philodendrons.

The smell of sulfur was more intense here, and Alan realized that at least some of the heat he had been feeling wasn't from his fever. A deposit of volcanic ash mud then, probably seeping from tiny vents.

"All right, Alex, do you mind telling me why. . . ." Alan never finished the question, as Alex quite deliberately used the side of his snout to push Alan into the pool.

Alan spluttered as he came up for air, spitting out the metallic taste of the mud. "What the hell was that for?"

Alex seemed unconcerned at his outburst, merely staring off into the undergrowth with his usual watchful air.

Thankful at least that the pool was warm but not superheated from any subterranean volcanic activity -- and that it wasn't deep enough that he couldn't feel the bottom -- Alan started to wade toward the side of the pool. Hell, maybe Alex just wanted to join in the 'Let's push Alan into the water' game that Bob was so fond of, but why the hell did he have to drag him all the way up _here_ to do it?

Reaching for the side of the pool to lever himself out, Alan just as quickly snatched his hand back when Alex suddenly turned and snapped at the limb. "Okaaay. I take it I'm supposed to stay in here then?"

Alex kept his head down in the attack position and let out a low warning growl.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' then." Wiping more mud from his face, Alan said bitterly, "If I smelled _that_ bad, a dip in the stream would have accomplished much the same thing, you know, without the grand tour of the island."

Evidently satisfied that Alan was going to behave for the time-being, Alex turned and again took up his guard position, as if this were a common-day occurrence for him.

And _that_ made Alan settle back into the warm mud with a thoughtful frown. Alex had headed directly for this one particular spot, and his forceful insistence that Alan _stay_ in the pool led him to believe that this was not some random occurrence . . . or a frivolous maneuver on the raptor's part. Alan snorted. Not that he'd ever seen this particular raptor doing anything remotely 'frivolous.'

For one thing, his eggs would likely be hatching soon, and he couldn't imagine that Alex would want to be away from the nest when that happened, which meant that there had to be a damn good reason why Alan was currently sitting on his ass in a pool of hot mud.

"So _think_, Dr. Grant. Other than the fact that the warm mud feels pretty damn good to your abused muscles, what purpose is served by sitting in a pool of mineral-laden mud that is evidently -- given the evidence of your nose at least -- composed mostly of sulfur?"

_Sulfur_.

Alan drew his breath in sharply and turned to stare at the raptor in burgeoning admiration. He felt a slow smile spreading across his face. "Damned if you don't know the meaning of 'antibiotic' after all, old man."

Alex turned to stare at him as if to comment on just how slow this particular human was.

Sulfur. One of the elements used in the manufacture of sulfa drugs, the first mass-produced antibiotic discovered decades ago. Alan knew that sulfur in its pure form was used more as a fungicide than an antibiotic, but he imagined it wouldn't do his wounds any harm.

Hell, it might actually do some good, if for no other reason than to draw out the infection. His raptor companion evidently thought so.

And surprisingly enough, he was beginning to trust this particular raptor -- at least, he seemed to have more common sense than many of Alan's supposedly learned colleagues. _They_ wouldn't have been caught dead in a pool of volcanic ash mud.

But then, they'd probably have enough sense not to get tricked into a repeat expedition to an island full of 65-million-year-old predators either.

All in all, it wasn't saying much for Alan's own level of common sense.

* * * * *

  


"We've discovered more than one nest of fossilized eggs with both shell shards and unhatched  
eggs. Whether this means a portion of the eggs were somehow unfertilized or some other mishap  
occurred to the eggs prior to hatching is almost impossible to determine from the fossil record."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


The next morning found Alan yet again with a raptor curled around him, but this time Alex seemed more than ready for an early rising. He uncoiled himself from around Alan before Alan had even completely woken up.

Alan stretched, surprised when the movement didn't cause him nearly as much pain as it had the previous morning. He looked at his wounds in something like awe. They still looked bad, but they were definitely much improved from the previous day. The swelling and the redness had both gone down, and the wounds felt less hot to touch. It appeared that the couple of hours he spent in the mud bath had done some good after all.

Then again, Alan had rinsed off most of the mud in a waterfall they had passed on the way back, and perhaps that's merely the reason he felt better. It had been a _long_ time since he'd had a proper shower.

Alan looked up to find Alex pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the nest.

"Hey, what's the matter, big guy? You're acting like an expectant father outside the maternity ward." Alan heard a sharp crack from the direction of the nest and sighed, resting his head in his hands briefly. "I guess that's 'cause you _are_ an expectant father outside the maternity ward." He looked heavenward in supplication. "I should have known today had started off too well."

Still a little leery about being around the baby raptors in such a volatile situation, Alan started to rise from his mat. As protective as the raptors were around the eggs, he'd hate to see firsthand just how protective they were with their newborn hatchlings. "I hope you don't mind if I leave you and the kids alone to enjoy this special time together."

Alan had barely made it to his feet when Alex was right there, growling a series of tones that evidently meant 'down,' since it was accompanied by a rather forceful downward pressure by the raptor's nose on Alan's shoulder.

Sighing again, Alan sat.

The big head lowered down to his level and Alex warbled very distinctly, 'Stay here.'

"Somehow I just _knew_ that was what you were going to say."

Alex was still staring at him, so Alan wearily made the 'assent' tones.

Seemingly mollified, Alex turned his attention back to the nest and the hatching velociraptors.

Alan watched with him, quickly fascinated despite his trepidation. He knew from the fossil record that the baby raptors had shorter snouts and bigger eyes than the adults, which was generally indicative of young that were nurtured for some time by their parents rather than being instantly dangerous. For that matter, he had actually held a baby raptor before he knew just what breed of dinosaur it actually was, but it seemed somehow different out here in the 'wild' in the company of an adult raptor and his rather formidable pack.

He didn't know much at all about anthropology, but he figured he was _way_ too close to this particular culture to be studying it in anything like an objective manner.

Well, it wasn't like this whole expedition had been _his_ idea. It sort of came down to 'an invitation you can't refuse' when he thought about it. Kidnapped by a velociraptor, and damned if he still didn't know why.

The first of the eggs rocked frantically as its occupant tried to peck its way out of the shell. Alex lowered his head expectantly to the egg, nudging it slightly, and despite himself Alan leaned in closer as well. The young one seemed to be making good progress, but Alan held his breath nonetheless as the small head finally appeared through the cracks in the shell.

Alex keened a welcoming warble, nudging the small head.

The baby seemed to have run out of steam, so Alan slowly moved one hand toward the egg, ready to pull back if Alex objected. When Alex merely warbled an impatient 'assent,' Alan reached for the baby and pulled apart the rest of the shell. The youngster fell over into Alan's hand, and he instinctively cradled it to his chest with his good hand. He dumped the tins of food from his shirt and used it to wipe the worst of the fluids from the hatchling's nostrils and its smooth hide.

Alan looked up quickly at Alex, ready to release the baby raptor if Alex looked upset.

Not only was he not upset, but the big male seemed perfectly content to leave Alan with the first baby as he reached over to check on the other egg.

The other egg rocked, but not as violently as the first egg had. Alex made another keening noise, encouraging the young one, and the egg rocked again, a little harder this time. The egg cracked, but it was _not_ accompanied by the emerging snout of a young raptor.

Getting a little worried at the amount of time it was taking, Alan set the first baby down, still wrapped in his shirt. Leaning toward the egg, he nudged Alex's hovering nose out of the way and tapped gently on the egg where it had cracked, hoping to stimulate the youngster to try again. There was another weak tapping from inside but no furthering of the cracks on the outside of the egg.

Alex keened again, a worried sound this time.

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't look very good to me either." Alan tapped harder on the surprisingly tough outer shell of the egg, wishing he had something he could use to help break it open. He was afraid to strike the egg too hard for fear of injuring the baby.

The light improved as the big raptor moved away, and Alan took the opportunity to examine the shell carefully. There still wasn't any spot that the hatchling could break through. Alan started tapping again, trying to enlarge a crack with his fingernail, and he nearly jumped when Alex returned, dropping a small, pointed stone by Alan's side.

"Great minds think alike, eh, Alex?" He smiled briefly at the anxious raptor, then picked up the proffered stone and used it to tap lightly on the shell. He stopped every few seconds to listen for sounds from within, then tapped harder when he could hear or feel no further motion. Alex keened again.

"I know, big guy. I'm trying." With one final tap, he was finally able to widen a crack far enough to get his finger inside and peel back part of the shell. He held his breath, hoping that the little one hadn't been damaged by its travels in Billy's pack and the fight with the allosaurus. He suppressed a twinge of guilt, remembering how he had almost dropped the eggs into the river. At that time, he was only thinking of their own skins -- funny to realize how vastly things had changed.

Alan anxiously peeled back another section of the tough shell, and he finally heard a soft cry from inside. Moving faster now, he removed more of the shell until he was able to see the young raptor inside. It lifted its tiny head wearily, and Alan had to nudge aside Alex's questing nose so he could lift the baby from its erstwhile prison.

Moving it down to where the other youngster lay, Alan used one sleeve of his shirt to wipe down the baby raptor, hoping the rubdown would stimulate its breathing and other autonomic systems.

He was rewarded at last with a small cry, and Alan smiled, holding it up to where Alex could blow softly onto its small form. It was a lot smaller than the first baby, but its next cry was slightly stronger and Alan was hopeful the tiny raptor would survive after all.

Alex evidently thought so, as he threw his snout into the air and let out a joyful-sounding warble.

The light from the entrance was subsequently dimmed by a slew of curious raptor heads peering inside at the new arrivals.

Wrapping both babies in his shirt to keep them warm, Alan found himself resting his back against the wall with two contented, somnolent baby velociraptors in his arms. There was a steady stream of visitors as the pack was introduced to the newest members by the obviously preening Alex.

Resigned to babysitting duty, Alan was surprised when quite a few of the adults gave Alan the gentle head nudge he had come to associate with the raptors' greeting behavior after they'd gently sniffed the young raptors. He was even more amazed when he was granted that particular privilege by the previously distrustful Matron.

Alan smiled to himself and shook his head. _Isn't it wonderful how motherhood brings out the best manners in almost everyone?_

* * * * *

Alan was rapidly losing track of the days, but he figured about a week had passed since the babies had been born. There was no sign yet that the rest of the eggs were ready to hatch, so Alan assumed that the alpha male and female mated first in the pack, probably to assure that their offspring were bigger and more capable of surviving than the rest of the youngsters.

And said youngsters grew fast on the diet of partially digested meat that Alex regurgitated for them.

For all other things, however, they seemed to look to Alan for their care. It appeared that the young raptors had bonded with Alan somehow, because they were never far from his side. Alan had to quickly master more of the rudiments of 'raptor' just to keep the young hellions in line, and he had quickly garnered quite a vocabulary. He considered it no more than 'pidgin raptor', however, because he didn't have the necessary vocal equipment to manage all of the complex sounds the raptors were capable of.

Alex seemed almost amused at Alan's efforts to get the youngsters to behave, but the big raptor was never far away, seeming to realize that Alan still had difficulty getting around. While better, Alan's wounds had not even come close to healing, and although he could go short distances without his staff now, he still limped atrociously when he did so.

Alan had to admit that the baby raptors could be a heck of a lot of fun sometimes. The first raptor born was a male as far as Alan could tell, judging by the tiniest of bumps on his neck that would undoubtedly turn into the male neck spikes. He took after his father in that he was fearless, impetuous and downright arrogant at times. Alan had dutifully dubbed him 'Rex' as a consequence. He was quite the handful, but he would generally obey Alan, especially after a particularly hard nip from Alex when the young raptor was a little too slow in obeying Alan's 'come here' command.

The second raptor, the smaller one, was a female. While meeker than her older brother, she could still be quite the little tyrant when she was aggravated enough. Alan named her 'Cleo,' and she very quickly became his favorite of the two youngsters. For her part, she positively adored Alan and refused to sleep unless she could curl up against his chest at night.

Far from being jealous, Alex seemed downright pleased with the situation as far as Alan could tell.

The young raptors soon had the run of the entire clearing, and the adults learned very quickly to look where they put their feet in case there was a baby raptor underfoot. Alan had finally gotten over his incipient panic when this happened, as he learned that the adults were _very_ solicitous with the young ones and that it was merely one of the ways that the youngsters bonded with the remainder of the pack.

They still kept Alan very active trying to keep up with them, and he was always happy when Alex took them on 'hunting trips' against one of the other raptors in the clearing. It was usually Bob who ended up being the 'prey,' merely because he seemed to enjoy the attention so much. The gash on his side from the Harpy had still not healed so he spent quite a bit of time in the clearing . . . and he was evidently bored with the forced inactivity.

So Bob made a great show of being the unaware prey as Alex taught the young ones how to separate, surround and stalk their victim. Bob did an impressive imitation of a bleating hadrosaur when the two young raptors finally 'attacked' him from the underbrush, falling dramatically over on his side at the combined weight of about 10 pounds of baby raptors. It usually ended up as a free-for-all, which Alan was quite happy _not_ to participate in, because even the baby raptors' claws were incredibly sharp. They had learned, with a little help from Alex, that Alan was 'off-limits' for these wrestling matches.

If something startled the baby raptors, however, they would always dart behind Alan, although the young male tended to stick his head around Alan's leg and bleat his defiance from his presumed position of safety.

Alan turned at the warning squeal as the young female charged across the clearing and leapt toward his chest. Laughing, Alan caught her as she chirruped happily and turned in his arms.

"You do realize that very soon you won't be able to do that without knocking me to the ground, don't you?"

The youngster chirruped again and rubbed the side of her snout against Alan's cheek.

Oh yes, Alan could probably write a book on 'How to be a Raptor Mother,' and he was starting to have a really nasty suspicion on why Alex had 'kidnapped' him in the first place. The other young females in the pack seemed to be already paired off, and it looked like the Harpy had been the only unattached female remaining. Alan already knew Alex's thoughts on _that_ one even before she had been banished by her attack on Alan and Bob.

Alex evidently had needed a 'mother' for his youngsters, and he seemed to have gone recruiting _way_ outside the usual parameters to find one, perhaps because he knew Alan had risked his own life to save one of Alex's eggs.

Well, Alan wasn't going to complain too much since it had evidently saved his life. It would have helped immensely, however, if he'd done some prior babysitting. At least now he could tell Ellie that he had experience in watching kids when she needed a night out with her husband.

Come to think of it, Ellie probably wouldn't appreciate having her kids compared to baby velociraptors.

Alan winced. There was a damned good reason they'd broken off their relationship.

********************************

Billy wiped the unending sweat from his forehead and tried to focus his sleep-deprived eyes. He wasn't sure how long he'd managed to wander around this sorry excuse for an island, but he was going to run out of food if he didn't find the raptor pack soon. Oh, he knew he could forage for food and now that the terrain was finally starting to look familiar, he could also return to the InGen compound for supplies.

But that would take time -- time he couldn't afford to waste. He had a mission to accomplish after all. And then it wouldn't matter if he ran out of food or not.

********************************

Alan knew it was only a matter of time, and sure enough, they did it. Alex had left on one of his food-finding missions for Alan, and a great deal of the remainder of the pack was out on their own errands, presumably hunting.

Rex, the baby male raptor, had become more and more intrigued by the world outside the clearing, and he finally decided that he was big enough to explore without one of his 'parents' along. Alan gave the 'come here' command as he saw him trying to slither away, but the young male bleated an unconcerned 'dissent' as he disappeared completely into the undergrowth.

The little female looked back at Alan briefly, but she was too accustomed to following her older brother around. Alan didn't doubt that with her degree of intelligence, she was curious herself to see what resided in the outside world.

Alan breathed a soft "damn it" under his breath as he hobbled off with his lucky staff after the wayward children, and he gave the sentry raptor a weary nod as he approached. By this time, all the raptors were used to Alan having to make brief forays into the undergrowth to retrieve the young ones. The sentry actually gave Alan a commiserating head nudge this time, and Alan muttered a 'thank you' in raptor as he absentmindedly patted the warm flank in passing.

Alan was going to have a long talk with Alex about the kids' increasingly independent behavior when the big raptor returned.

Stopping outside the grove of trees, Alan tried to get his bearings. Up to now, the children had always found something exciting enough just outside the clearing that they hadn't actually wandered far.

It appeared that _this_ time he wasn't that lucky, since the kids were nowhere in sight. Alan pondered briefly whether he should just call for help from the other raptors, but he knew Rex and Cleo wouldn't get off as easy if they had to be retrieved by one of the other adults. The raptors had _extremely_ strict rules against endangering other members of the pack with foolhardy behavior.

As Alan started off through the jungle after a familiar youthful squeal, he didn't stop to wonder if _he_ wasn't perhaps embarking in foolhardy behavior of his own.

******************************

Billy quickened his pace as he finally passed the clearing where the fight between the allosaurus and the velociraptor pack had occurred. By now, most of the giant predator had been consumed by the extremely efficient scavengers, but the smell was still strong enough that it was sure to attract a wide array of things that Billy didn't want to bother with right now.

He was finally back on the right track, and Billy knew it wouldn't take him long to find the raptor pack. If all else failed, he'd just start yelling into the forest again and bring them to _him_.

He was saving that option for last, however, since he was just as likely to attract the spinosaurus as the raptors. He knew he was most likely going to die on this island anyway, but he didn't want to get eaten until he'd had a chance to avenge Alan's death.

*******************************

"As terrifying as it was to be chased by one of the big predators, it was almost as terrifying  
to watch them fight each other. It doesn't take much effort at all to kill a human, so you can't  
appreciate their sheer strength and speed until you see them tear into each other."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


Alan stopped to catch his breath and leaned against the convenient trunk of a towering ceiba tree. He was hot and exhausted and pretty sure he was going to kill the young raptors himself if he ever caught up with them. If he didn't die of heat exhaustion first. No wonder Ellie still looked so fit, if having children meant chasing them around all day.

He had just cupped his hands to call in the reserves when a small movement in the undergrowth caught his attention. Alan heard a muffled chirrup that he immediately recognized, and he stalked off toward its source. He had just rounded the trunk of a much smaller tree that had somehow found light enough to grow amidst the forest giants when he was 'attacked' from both sides by two miniature velociraptors.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Alan allowed Rex to continue gnawing on his already tattered pants leg as he hefted a triumphant Cleo up onto his shoulder. She cooed a happy greeting and tried rubbing her snout against his cheek, but Alan gave her the raptor tones for 'bad girl,' and she immediately subsided into a crestfallen slump. He had just hefted the still snarling Rex up into the cradle of one arm when he heard a much larger disturbance in the undergrowth.

Alan froze and the children instinctively followed his lead, quieting immediately. Alan gripped his staff tighter in one hand and backed slowly toward the smaller tree. Cleo clung hard enough to his shoulder that her claws were digging painfully into his skin, but that was the least of his worries now. Whatever was lurking in the undergrowth was stalking them -- he had learned that much from his time with the raptors.

Not stopping until he felt the moss-covered bark of the tree behind him, Alan quickly turned and hoisted first Rex and then Cleo into the highest limb he could reach. He said 'hide' in raptor, and the youngsters obediently hopped into higher limbs where the overhanging vines and leafy epiphytes masked their presence. He could only pray that the feisty Rex was scared enough now to actually _stay_ hidden.

Alan knew that his left arm was still too weak to climb the tree himself, and besides, if it was one of the larger predators he needed to lead it away from the baby raptors. He couldn't take the chance of it being tall enough to reach the hatchlings. Alan therefore walked as quickly as he could away from the tree, heading in the direction of the raptors' clearing. He knew he could call for help, but he also knew he was too far away for the pack to reach him in time.

He hadn't managed to get very far at all before the Harpy stepped out in front of his path.

She looked rangier, leaner, and Alan wondered if she'd even bothered to hunt on her own since their last encounter. The banishment from the pack also seemed to have affected her mental state as she had the sharp, uncoordinated movements of having descended those last few steps into complete madness. Her eyes, however, were rock steady as she stared into Alan's eyes, and she snarled with a low, feral hiss.

She stalked forward, head down and tail lashing, but Alan held his ground. He didn't want to lead her back to the tree where he'd hidden the hatchlings, and he knew he wouldn't be able to run fast enough to escape her regardless.

Besides, he'd gotten really goddamned tired of running.

She lunged for him, but not directly this time, as she veered at the last moment and made a slashing motion at him with one toeclaw as she pivoted. Alan had to turn sharply to avoid her, and the claw tore a small gash in his already injured leg. Gritting his teeth, he managed to get one blow on her hindquarters with the staff as she passed, but he knew he hadn't done her any real damage.

Alan also knew that his futile resistance wouldn't do him any good in the long run, but he refused to lie down without at least some semblance of a fight.

She turned several yards past him, weaving her neck back and forth as she keened gleefully. She leapt for him again -- much slower than Alan knew she was capable of -- and merely careened into him with her shoulder as she again veered at the last minute.

Alan sprawled across the damp ground, rolling frantically onto his back as he expected her to make an immediate lunge for his throat. Alan desperately yelled out Alex's name, knowing the big raptor hadn't gone in this direction but needing to make the last ditch effort nonetheless.

The Harpy didn't seem concerned as she paced slowly closer to where Alan lay, making a low, satisfied growl as she approached. Alan knew from just looking into those cold, black eyes that the raptor intended to play with her kill for some time before she finally finished him off. He had seen that look in a cat's eyes once as it had played with a hapless mouse.

Now it looked as if it were his turn.

As if to prove that point, the Harpy lunged for his injured arm, not his throat, and Alan swung his staff with all his remaining strength at her eye ridge. She howled in pain, but the battered staff broke at last under the successive abuse, and Alan was left with no defense as she rounded on him again.

From some distance away, Alan heard Alex's deep-voiced bellow as he called the pack to him, but Alan knew the raptor was much too far away to intervene at this point. He yelled "Alex!" one last time regardless, hoping that the big raptor would be close enough to at least locate the hatchlings once Alan was dead.

The Harpy snarled in frustrated fury as she heard the raptor's call, and this time when she lunged for him, Alan knew it was going to be a killing blow.

She never made it.

Three gunshots rang out through the dense, humid air, and Alan could only lay there stunned as the Harpy reared up and fell over sideways, twitching a few times before she finally lay still.

He was even more stunned when he saw Billy Brennan running toward him, gun in hand, dividing his wide-eyed gaze between Alan and the felled raptor.

"Alan! Thank God! Are you all right?" Billy skidded to a stop before Alan, dropping immediately to his knees beside him and scanning him anxiously for injuries.

"Billy!" Alan clutched his protégé's arm in disbelief as he struggled to sit up. "Billy, what the hell are you still doing here?"

"You didn't think I was going to leave you here all alone, did you? But I thought you were dead, Alan, I saw. . . ."

Alan's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he remembered something direly important. "Billy, you have to leave . . . now!"

"Of course, as soon as we get you to your feet. . . ."

Alan pushed him away viciously. "Now, damnit! You have to leave _now_!" Alan saw the confusion in the young man's eyes, but he didn't have time to explain. It might already be too late. Far too late. Alan struggled to his feet, heedless of the pain in his re-injured limbs. "Run, Billy! Get out of here!"

"Not. Without. You."

Alan watched as Billy's eyes narrowed, and he knew the stubborn young man all too well. But Alan tried again anyway. "He's coming, damnit. I called him and he's coming. You _have_ to leave now." Alan shoved Billy again, hating to see that hurt in his eyes after he'd sworn he'd never be the cause of that again.

"You're not making any sense, Alan." Billy's eyes examined him carefully, latching onto the blatantly infected wounds, and Alan could see the concern mixed along with the hurt from Alan's actions. The young man edged closer, avoiding Alan's clumsy attempts at warding him off, and laid his palm on Alan's forehead.

Alan stepped back, shaking his head. "I am _not_ feverish, Billy. Okay, yes, I probably am, but you have to leave now -- before he gets here."

"Alan, please. We're the only two people left on this island. Come with me." Billy's voice was coaxing now, obviously trying to calm him down.

It was too late now, in any case. Alan watched over Billy's shoulder as Alex glided to an eerily soundless stop behind the young man. Alex had his head down, tail straight out in his agitation, warily eying the gun still held loosely in Billy's hand. His mouth opened in a silent snarl, and then he gathered himself to leap.

"No, Alex!" Alan quickly pulled Billy behind him and the raptor stopped, barely, roaring his anger at being thwarted by a member of his own pack.

Beside him, Alan caught the motion out of the corner of his eye as Billy brought the gun up to bear on the raptor.

"No!" Alan said, pulling the gun arm down. "You'd never make it!"

Billy said, "Damnit, Alan, even _I_ couldn't miss at this range! Why. . . ."

"Because of them." Alan indicated the rest of the raptor pack materializing out of the forest with an abrupt motion of one arm, still holding onto Billy's gun hand with the other. "You kill Alex, and the rest of his pack would rip you to shreds."

"Alex?"

"Him," Alan said, indicating the still snarling raptor in front of them. He shook his head wearily. "It would probably help if I introduced you."

The big raptor turned his head to growl orders to the rest of the pack, and Alan heard Billy gasp sharply.

"Actually, I think we've already met," Billy said, eyes locked intently on the distinctive broad stripe running down the raptor's neck.

Alan raised an enquiring eyebrow at him.

"He was about to rip my throat out until he caught a whiff of this," he said, pointing to his head.

Alan was so shocked at the suddenness of events that he hadn't even registered the presence of his fedora on Billy's head. "My hat?"

Clearing his throat with a nervous sound, Billy said, "I was just keeping it safe for you, Alan."

Barking out a short, strained laugh, Alan said, "Looks like it worked out the other way around." He paused, still eyeing the agitated raptor. "I'm sure it gave Alex a bit of a shock."

Billy eyed the watchful pack of raptors warily. "What the hell is going on here, Alan? Why haven't they attacked us?"

"I'll explain in a moment, just stay there." Alan walked slowly toward Alex in an attempt to reassure the raptor, who was still very much in attack mode.

"Alan!"

Alan waved Billy off urgently, but then gasped in pain as his injured leg gave out on him.

Billy lunged toward him, but Alex reached him first. Reflexively grasping onto Alex's neck to keep himself from falling, Alan saw Billy bring up the gun again. Billy's eyes were wide and obviously terrified at Alan's proximity to the enraged raptor.

Alex curved his head around, pushing Alan behind him, then whipped back around as he snarled viciously at Billy and the raised gun.

"Put it away, Billy." Alan could hear the strain in his own voice.

So could Alex. Evidently thinking that Billy was threatening his adopted packmate, Alex growled again menacingly at Billy.

Feeling the raptor's muscles tense as he prepared to attack the perceived threat, Alan yelled, "Billy, put it away, _now_!"

Billy hesitated just a moment too long, and when Alex lowered his head still further in preparation to attack, Alan swore loudly and ducked under the raptor's neck. Alan pushed Billy's gun arm down, but they both lost their balance with the impetus of Alan's desperate charge and fell. Billy dropped the gun as they both hit the ground.

Alex roared his displeasure and lunged again toward Billy.

In desperation, Alan pulled Billy against his chest and rubbed the underside of his jaw on the back of Billy's neck. He looked up to find Alex watching him, snarling, head raised but still in attack mode.

Alan repeated the gesture, saying, "Mine, damnit, Alex. Mine!"

Alex relaxed slightly from his imminent attack position, although he was still far from calm, his tail thrashing from side to side.

Billy for once was silent, his jaw hanging open, but Alan didn't know whether it was because of the _method_ Alan used to protect him or the simple fact that it seemed to be actually working.

Tail still thrashing, Alex whuffed the 'query' tones at Alan.

Alan got to his feet clumsily, leaning heavily on Billy to do so, and silently encouraged the young man to get to his feet also.

When Alex didn't get an immediate answer from Alan, the raptor approached them, aggravated, and Alan quickly motioned Billy to stand behind him. For once, the young grad student actually decided to obey.

Alex sniffed Alan carefully, growling in the back of his throat at Billy, and he then gently grabbed Alan's good arm and tried to pull him away from Billy and toward the rest of the pack.

Alan sighed. He wasn't sure he was up to a tug-of-war with a possessive velociraptor right now. "No, Alex," he said firmly and pulled back on the arm.

Alex's head went up as he released Alan, but he imperiously warbled the 'follow me' command.

"Damnit, Alex, no."

Alex repeated the 'follow me' command, more forcibly now, and his head lowered dangerously.

From behind Alan, Billy tugged on Alan's shoulder. "Alan," he said softly. "You're _arguing_ with a dinosaur."

"Yes, and as usual, I'm losing," Alan said bitterly.

There was a soft sound from behind him, and Alan turned his head to see Billy watching him with anxious eyes. Alan smiled crookedly. "You think I'm losing it, don't you?"

Billy jerked his head toward the big raptor. "Alan, what am I supposed to think? You're trying to hold a conversation with a goddamn velociraptor, for crying out loud!"

Alan smiled again. "Actually, no, I haven't been -- not properly -- and I guess that's the problem. You'd think I'd know better by now."

He watched Billy relax, infinitesimally, as he obviously thought he'd made Alan see sense.

Alan shook his head fondly, turned around and made the sounds for 'greeting' in raptor, pack member to pack leader.

Alex's head raised slightly as he replied to the greeting, then he whuffed the 'query' tones again.

When Alan answered this time, 'I'm okay' in raptor, Alex relaxed slightly but still sniffed Alan over carefully, pausing at the new gash on his leg. It had thankfully stopped bleeding.

"See, I told you so," Alan said in English. He then pulled Billy around to his side and used the term for 'packmate' in raptor.

Alan caught Billy eying him with what looked like a combination of awe and surprise, evidently not quite believing what he was seeing and hearing.

Alex sniffed Billy warily, growled, and then pulled on Alan's arm again.

Alan said, "No," and pulled Billy close to again rub his scent onto his protégé's neck. 'Mine,' he said again, this time in raptor.

Alex growled, and Alan was careful not to flinch as the big raptor lowered his impressive rows of teeth closer to his neck. Pushing Billy slightly away, Alan raised his head and awaited the alpha male's decision.

Billy started to make a move to retrieve his fallen gun, but Alan said, "Just stay still, Billy. Trust me, please."

Alex's teeth settled on Alan's bared neck, and he again closed his jaws with the minimum of pressure, making his displeasure known, but also telling Alan that his request would probably be granted.

Sighing, Alan locked gazes with the raptor, and said, "Sorry, big guy. Couldn't have you eating my grad student. It's hard enough to get good help these days."

Billy started to say, "Alan . . ." but Alan hushed him.

Alex made the 'follow me' command again, reluctantly including Billy this time, but when Alan said, 'children' in raptor, Alex's attention focused on Alan more intently.

'Where?' Alex asked.

Alan responded, 'That way,' pointing toward the tree where he'd stashed the baby raptors. Alan grabbed Billy's arm and pulled the still stunned grad student with him toward the tree. As they walked past an excited and bright-eyed Bob, Alan absentmindedly patted him on the nose.

Stopping at the tree, Alan whistled the 'come out' signal in raptor, and the two baby raptors immediately appeared from behind the massive tree limb where they'd been hiding, warbling excitedly at him. "Come here, you little monster." Alan waited for the young female to get close enough and then grabbed her with his good arm.

"How ya doin', sport?" he asked. Alan let the young female rub briefly against his cheek, then set her down on the ground. He didn't have to wait for the young male, because he had already hopped down two limbs and was busily hissing at Billy below him.

"All right, macho man. I think he's suitably impressed by your ferocity." Alan grabbed the young raptor and told him firmly in raptor, 'packmate,' as he indicated Billy.

The young raptor warbled the 'query' tone and 'prey', and Alan responded with an immediate 'no' to him. Giving Billy another wary glance, Rex reluctantly replied with the 'assent' tones. Alan put him down and the young raptor immediately scrambled off to join his sister in greeting their father.

Leaning wearily against the tree, Alan pointed in the direction of the rambunctious twins. Alan said, "The larger male is Rex, the female is Cleo. So, now that you've met the entire family, what do you think, Mr. Brennan?"

Billy was obviously bemused and still a little in shock. "I thought you didn't like kids."

Alan ducked his head and smiled. "Sometimes things like this just happen, Billy."

"Well, it certainly gives 'family planning' a whole new meaning, if you ask me."

Alan laughed and pulled Billy close to him. "It is _good_ to see you, Billy. I was afraid. . . . " Alan found he couldn't say anymore and just pulled Billy tighter against him.

"It's good to see you, too, Alan." Billy pulled back slightly, still perceptibly nervous about the encircling raptors.

Alan slapped the shoulder of an approaching male raptor, one of the 'sentries' he hadn't yet named, not wanting him to crowd Billy too much in his curiosity.

"_Dinosaur man_." Billy shook his head. "I should have known I wouldn't have to rescue you."

"Oh, but you did," Alan replied. "I wouldn't have lasted much longer against the Harpy if you hadn't come along."

"The Harpy?"

Alan indicated the dead raptor. "Little Miss Personality there. She and I go way back, and if she weren't so busy playing with her intended kill, I'd be lying there instead."

Off in the distance, there was a loud coughing sound from one of the pack members acting as a sentry. Alex immediately barked orders to the pack, which sent most of them scattering in different directions.

Grabbing Billy by the arm, Alan said, "C'mon. We have to move, that was the 'danger' signal. Alex has scattered the pack and told them to meet back in the clearing."

"Alan, how the hell do you know. . . ."

Alex whuffed a determined 'follow me,' and Alan obeyed, pulling Billy with him. "I'll explain later, but for now, we _have_ to move. Anything big enough to worry velociraptors is big enough to worry me." He shook his head as Billy made a movement to pick up the gun. "No, you'll have to leave it for now. If you try to pick that thing up, they'll rip you to pieces and Alex won't let me interfere. They're _very_ much aware what a gun can do."

"Are you sure, Alan?"

Alan warily eyed the big alpha raptor, but he was evidently tolerating Billy for now, occupied with trying to keep the twins in line. Jeff was right behind them though -- and keeping a very intent eye on the interloper. "Yes," Alan said softly. "I'm sure."

Stumbling on his next step, Alan winced, leaning more heavily on Billy. "Sorry, Billy, but I'm afraid you're going to have to be my walking stick. I broke mine whacking the Harpy across the head."

Billy cocked his head to one side and said, "As long as you promise not to treat _me_ the same way."

Alan smiled, gripping Billy's shoulder tightly. "Deal."

***********************************

"The K-T event is nothing compared to the human effect on life on this planet. What species  
we haven't managed to massacre into extinction, we've accomplished through loss of habitat,  
worldwide pollution and the greenhouse effect.  
Hey, at least we're good at _something_."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Back at the raptors' clearing, Alan directed Billy to the front of the hollow tree that had been his home for so many weeks. Sinking gratefully to the ground and motioning Billy to join him, Alan leaned up against the tree and bent his re-injured leg at the knee.

Billy leaned over to examine Alan's wounds more closely, wincing at the pattern of old and new gashes that crisscrossed his calf and lower leg. "See what happens when I leave you alone?" He looked Alan in the eye, obviously worried. "I dropped my packs when I heard you yell, Alan. The medkit I stole is somewhere back there." He jerked his head toward the inhospitable jungle. "Do you want me to go. . . ?"

"No, I don't think that's advisable at the moment, Billy." Alan eyed the sentry raptor, who was keeping a _very_ close eye on Billy. "I have a feeling you'll be on probation for awhile."

"Probation or not, I really don't like the looks of these wounds, Alan." Billy shook his head. "It was stupid of me to leave that medkit behind."

Before Alan could reply, Alex and the twins approached the entrance to the tree. Alex nudged the chastised children inside before swiveling his big head toward Alan and Billy. He stared at Billy with an icy glare, emitting a low, continuous snarl that was almost sub-vocal.

Billy eyed the big raptor warily. "Actually, in _his_ case, I feel more like the contents of a pantry than someone on probation." He took a deep breath. "I don't think he likes me very much."

Alan made the 'query' tones, but Alex didn't cease his almost inaudible growl. Shaking his head, Alan said, "I'd say you're right, but I just don't understand it. I haven't known this particular raptor to 'hate' anything. In his mind, you're either a packmate or potential prey, but he's never shown this degree of antipathy toward anyone -- even the Harpy."

Alex finally ceased his steady snarl, but he kept his gaze locked on Billy as he lowered his snout to Alan's head. The big raptor very carefully nipped the back of Alan's neck before rising to join the twins inside the tree.

"Shit!" Alan said, rubbing at his neck, then glanced sideways at Billy. "And no, I don't have a clue what _that_ was about." He smiled wearily. "Every time I think I have Alex figured out, he does something to throw the whole equation out the window."

"He's a velociraptor. I have a feeling he does pretty much what he wants." Billy turned his gaze to the activity in the clearing, shaking his head at the organized comings and goings of the raptor pack. "How _did_ you end up here, Alan?" He squeezed his eyes shut suddenly and ducked his head. Refusing to look Alan in the eye, he continued more softly, "I was sure you were dead."

"Oh, ye of little faith."

Billy looked up sharply at that. "It has nothing to do with faith, and everything to do with _that_," Billy said angrily as he pointed in the direction that Alex had gone. "That _thing_ had your torn and bloodied shirt in his mouth when I first ran into him, Alan. What the hell was I supposed to think?"

Alan took a deep breath, imagining that scene. If their positions had been reversed, Alan doubted he would've handled himself as well as Billy had. Would he have been able to continue on, thinking that Billy was dead? Alan shuddered, and told himself that it was just the dampness in the air. "Yes, Billy, I know how it must have looked, and I'm sorry to have put you through all that." He hesitated, trying to find the words to make Billy understand. "But that _thing_ has saved my life more times than I can count." He shook his head. "I wish I could tell you _why_, but I just . . . don't know."

"Why not start by telling me how you got here?"

Alan smiled lopsidedly at Billy. "You're going to kill me if I do."

Billy snorted. "After all I've been through, just to find you shacking up cozy as can be with a pack of velociraptors? You can count on me killing you if you _don't_."

"Getting a little domineering, Mr. Brennan?"

"Getting a little impatient, Dr. Grant."

Alan laughed but finally relented, telling Billy about his first meeting with the raptor pack, and the intervention by Alex against the Harpy's first attack. He tried to gloss over his own part in the egg's rescue by relating some of his observations about the pack hierarchy and communications during their battle with the allosaurus, but he evidently didn't succeed very well. There was a damn good reason he had hired Billy as his assistant on the dig -- Billy was smart, thorough, and he didn't miss much. So, Alan wasn't terribly surprised to see the young man's face darken perceptibly during his narration.

"I should have known -- a classic case of 'Alanation.'" Billy shook his head, perceptibly angry. "You could have been _killed_, Alan. What possessed you to rescue a velociraptor egg in the middle of a full-blown dinosaur fight?"

Alan at least had the grace to _look_ sheepish. "I don't know, Billy." He shrugged. "It just seemed the thing to do at the time."

"And here I felt guilty for just _stealing_ the eggs."

Alan caught Billy's gaze to make sure he had his complete attention. "Billy, I was way out of line with that remark, and believe me, I've regretted it every minute of every day that I've been in this miserable jungle. However. . . ." he indicated the raptor pack as they went about their activities in the clearing, ". . . .it turns out that my objections to your actions weren't even _close_ to the tip of the iceberg. I've seen so much, _learned_ so much about raptors and their society, and you know what conclusion I've come to?"

Billy mutely shook his head.

"That our chosen field of study is the epitome of futility."

"Alan. . . ."

"No, Billy, hear me out. We manage to unearth a few fragments of bone and teeth, and maybe -- if we're lucky -- a few footprints. And with this, we think we can theorize on the social habits and intelligence of something that lived 65 million years ago. It's like a police detective trying to solve a crime with only the faded chalk outline of a body and no actual victim, no weapon, and no possible way to determine a motive.

"But now, I know the social structure of velociraptors, the way they raise their offspring. Hell, I even know they have _language_, for God's sake, more extensive than even _I_ had previously imagined. And that's when I began to realize that kid's comment at the symposium was absolutely correct about how pointless my work has been until now."

"Alan, _you're_ the one who said these creatures were only theme park monsters, not the real thing. Are you saying you've changed your mind?"

"They may be, or they may not. But everything I've discovered so far here on Isla Sorna leads me to believe they're a close enough approximation. Look, we knew they were intelligent from the size of their skulls, and we'd guessed they hunted in packs after finding multiple skeletons along with the bones of much larger prey. . . ."

Billy was shaking his head. "Alan, you're not thinking clearly. If everything you've seen here 'matches' what we've discovered in the fossils, how could our previous work have been for nothing? Yes, the clues are subtle. Yes, we've probably been making wrong guesses about some things, but so far, all your major theories about velociraptors have been correct. You were _right_, Alan, long before you found yourself submersed in this . . . _environment_."

Alan studied his student's intent face for a few moments, then reached out and ruffled Billy's hair. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around." He sighed. "I guess I've been too close and haven't seen the forest for the trees."

But Billy still had that look on his face that meant _someone_ was going to regret having gotten up this morning. "They're _dangerous_, Alan, and I agree with what you said before. These . . . imitation dinosaurs should never have existed. You're too close to the situation to see _that_ little fact either."

Bob chose that moment to limp over and flop next to Alan, playfully reaching across Alan's body to make a grab for his good arm.

"Alan!" Billy said, moving to intercept the young raptor's formidable-looking teeth from closing on Alan's arm.

"No, it's all right, Billy. He's, ah, relatively harmless. This bundle of unbridled energy is Bob, by the way." Alan spared a moment to smile a reassurance at Billy, then slapped the raptor on the nose affectionately. "Stop that, killer. I can probably outrun you now . . . and I've brought reinforcements." He rubbed the young raptor's neck.

Bob merely made a disgusted-sounding snort and rested his chin on Alan's thigh.

Eyeing the lazy raptor, Alan continued, "Regardless of their origins, Billy, I can't ignore the fact they have a right to try to survive, just like any other species. You know what I recommended to our government when we finally got off Isla Nublar? -- that they take their heaviest weapons and wipe the entire island off the face of the map. The thought of those creatures ever escaping the island. . . ."

Alan shook his head, dispelling that memory. "But Billy, what do you think happened _here_ when things started to go wrong in the InGen labs? They would have known from their tests that the raptors' intelligence made them their most dangerous opponents, even with their smaller size. They must have slaughtered them in droves -- maybe even the ones still in the cages -- massacred like victims of some kind of ethnic pogrom. Bob here is the only adolescent I've seen among the pack -- the rest of their young must have been killed. So, when we took their eggs. . . ."

"Alan, you know I'm sorry I did that. I'll never be able to apologize enough for that one idiotic act."

Alan waved him off. "It's okay, Billy. What's done is done, and we've both made our share of mistakes. Shall we call it even?"

A brief hesitation, then a subdued nod from Billy.

Alan returned the nod with one of his own and continued, "But when we took their eggs, the raptors only did what _any_ parents would do to save their children." He shuddered. "And to think I nearly threw Alex's eggs into the river."

Billy reached out and grabbed Alan's shoulder. "Alan, you're trying to give these _animals_ human characteristics. Most parents wouldn't kill another human being while trying to get their children back."

"Wouldn't they? I don't have kids, and neither do you, but I for one wouldn't want to stand in Ellie's way if one of her children was endangered. My point is that regardless of InGen's DNA manipulations, I doubt that these raptors are any different from the real thing when it comes to the instinct of survival . . . and the instinct to protect their offspring."

"The raptors from 65 million years ago _had_ to be different, Alan. _These_ raptors have had to interact with humans, and you know how we tend to contaminate primal cultures just through the process of studying them."

"Thanks," Alan said wryly as he looked at the young raptor resting on his thigh.

"You know that's not what I meant, Alan." Billy glanced back toward the tree hollow. "They know what our weapons look like, they know what our weapons can do . . . and they know just how dangerous _we_ can be to them." He eyed the young raptor's teeth warily as his jaws opened in a wide yawn. "Alan, right now humans are just prey animals to them. But how long before they start trying to wipe us out just because we _are_ dangerous to them?"

********************************

Billy sighed and tried to get comfortable on his improvised mat of palm fronds. He thought briefly about moving the fronds to a spot that didn't have an entire quarry's worth of stones underneath them, but he let go of that notion in a hurry. He didn't have to see the big raptor that Alan called 'Alex' to know he was being watched -- carefully. It was only at Alan's stubborn insistence (and what else was new?) that Billy was inside the tree at all. Billy was lodged as far away from Alan and the raptor family that the interior of the tree would allow, and Billy still felt the baleful glare of the alpha male raptor even through the pitch blackness.

It was _not_ a comfortable feeling.

But Billy hated being separated from Alan, especially after being apart for so long. He had missed the older man desperately, and to be so close to him now and still have to keep his distance -- it felt like he was missing a limb. Although if he wasn't careful how close he got to Alan while in the big raptor's sight, that might become more than just a metaphor.

Even after two days, the raptor still barely tolerated him, and that was only if Billy didn't get too close to Alan. If Billy made the mistake of actually _touching_ Alan. . . .

Well, it's good to be reminded every once in a while how fast velociraptors can be.

But Billy _needed_ to touch Alan. He'd been channeling his feelings for Alan into touch for so long that it went beyond being second nature. It was primary nature. And while Billy doubted that Alan returned those feelings, Billy had never gotten the impression that he was uncomfortable with their closeness.

Which was a good thing, 'cause if he had his way, they'd be getting a hell of a lot closer.

Billy turned over restlessly and heard the softly voiced growl from the opposite side of the tree.

He sighed. Once they made it clear of 'Attila the Raptor,' that is.

What confused Billy more than anything was that the big raptor didn't seem to mind allowing Rex and Cleo around him. The twins were curious, like all young creatures, and the female especially would appear at his feet and chirrup what sounded like some kind of question. Either the big male thought the young raptors could take care of themselves, or he merely thought Billy was more of a threat to _Alan_ than his offspring.

Neither option made a hell of a lot of sense.

But the big raptor watched Alan like a hawk, and Billy had little opportunity to talk privately with him. He had to get Alan away from here, before his wounds got so infected that he wouldn't be able to make the trip.

He wasn't even going to _think_ about losing Alan at this point -- not when they'd made it this far.

And not when Billy had something direly important to discuss with him.

*******************************

"We've come to the conclusion that some dinosaurs had a type of 'mating plumage,' again a theory  
derived from a study of their avian descendants as well as preliminary fossil evidence. This may  
have been as simple as bright coloring in head crests or spines, but it's likely there was also  
an attendant mating _ritual_, as well."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


The next morning, Billy watched from a safe distance as Alan sat next to the small stream and 'talked' to the twins, Rex and Cleo. Billy shook his head in amazement. He was still having a hard time believing that Alan _was_ actually communicating with the young raptors, but it was hard to argue with the evidence of his own eyes . . . and ears.

But Billy knew _he'd_ never be able to imitate the sounds that Alan made while speaking with the raptors. Alan was an excellent mimic, and he'd often left Billy in stitches after relating some conversation with one of his stuffier colleagues -- complete with appropriate gestures and voice inflections.

Right now, Alan had that look on his face that meant he was chewing someone out royally, and from the head-lowered/tail-down postures of the young raptors, he didn't have to guess who that was. After Alan had finished, the young male looked directly in Alan's eyes and chirped something that sounded vaguely rebellious to Billy's ears.

Alan barked back a sharp reply, smacked him soundly on the rump, then picked him up and warbled something low and intense while eyeing Rex intently. The young raptor lowered his head and chirped a soft reply.

Billy didn't miss the wince on Alan's face as he lowered the chastised youngster to the ground. Alan rubbed his wounded arm in a distracted manner while he warbled something to the young female. She replied with a happy chirp, then launched herself at Alan's shoulder. He let out a startled "Woof!" as he caught her, but smiled when she rubbed the side of her snout on his cheek. Emitting a sound like a cross between a low growl and a purr, she flicked her tail side to side lazily, obviously enjoying Alan's company.

The young female was positively smitten with Alan, and Billy couldn't say he blamed her.

He shook his head sadly. Now, if that wasn't pathetic -- jealous of a baby velociraptor, for Pete's sake.

Billy stiffened when he saw the alpha male make his usual silent approach toward Alan. He couldn't stop himself from thinking that his mentor was in danger from the big male, but it wasn't because of anything the raptor ever did _to_ Alan. On the contrary, the raptor (_Alex_ \-- he might as well get used to the name) seemed, if anything, to be even more careful with Alan than he was with his offspring.

Alex stopped behind Alan, lowering his head to bump the young female with his nose. She chirped what must be a greeting, still draped over Alan's shoulder, and Alex blew softly into her face with his nostrils. It was hard to believe anything as fierce as an adult velociraptor could be that gentle, but Billy guessed that's what Alan meant about their protective instincts toward their young.

Craning his neck back, Alan chirped something to Alex, who responded by coaxing the young female to jump down from Alan's shoulder. She obeyed, with obvious reluctance, and the big raptor turned his full attention on Alan. Still looming directly over him, he rubbed the side of his snout on the side of Alan's neck, and then nipped him sharply.

Alan yelped, then said aloud, "Would you _please_ stop doing that?" When the raptor merely cocked his head at him, Alan sighed. Struggling to his feet, he used the raptor's shoulder to help himself up. Surprisingly enough, the alpha male didn't seem to mind being used as a crutch. Alan then proceeded to give Alex some kind of tirade in raptor that had Billy shaking his head.

Only Dr. Alan Grant could get away with chewing out a full-grown velociraptor and think nothing of it.

Oh, Alan _looked_ harmless to the uninitiated, but heaven forbid if you should ever screw something up on _his_ dig. Billy smiled. It was almost fun to watch some know-it-all third year student get his arrogant self knocked down to size when Alan got _really_ worked up. The student would eventually go somewhere to lick his proverbial wounds, and Alan would be muttering under his breath for a good hour afterwards. That is, until he happened to glance at Billy and catch him smiling.

_"Oh, you think that's funny, do you, Mr. Brennan?"_

_"Well, actually, I was thinking we could save some money on knives and just use your tongue instead, Alan. It's a helluva lot sharper, and you know what they say, a penny saved. . . ."_

_Alan would look at him crossly for a few moments, but then that slow grin would appear on his face . . . and the sun would shine down upon Billy Brennan. If he were **really** lucky, Alan might even reach over and tousle his hair. Alan always gave him a hard time about his curls, but hey, they seemed to be doing the trick so far. Why mess with what works?_

Billy was pulled abruptly back to the present when he heard the much deeper vocalizations of Alex, who didn't sound at all happy. He scented the wounds on Alan's arm with his nose, and his head came up sharply. He looked down at Alan from his greater height and uttered something that sounded like a command.

Alan crossed his arms with that stubborn look crossing his face, and he gave a short reply in raptor.

Alex obviously didn't like the answer, because he dipped his head down to Alan's level and growled continuously in a low key -- and in the process, revealing what looked like a _hell_ of a lot of sharp teeth.

Not only did Alan not seem concerned, he merely sighed and absentmindedly rubbed the back of the raptor's head while he evidently mulled something over. Alex stopped his growl, and then made a series of gentle pushing motions with his head against Alan's shoulder.

Evidently still deep in thought, Alan replied in English, "Look, Alex. I _know_ you don't have time to play nursemaid, so why not. . . ?" He cut himself off abruptly, looking around the clearing. Spotting something on the far side of the stream, out of Billy's direct line of sight, Alan yelled, "Bob!" followed by something in raptor.

The young adolescent limped across the stream to Alan, butting his head against Alan's thigh and warbling what must be a greeting to Alex.

Alan pushed the young raptor to one side, revealing the nasty gash on the youngster's flank, and then proceeded to have another complicated-sounding conversation with Alex.

In the end, Alan looked exhausted and Alex was obviously not happy, but they seemed to have come to some kind of agreement. Calling the raptor pack to him, Alex took the twins and a large number of the adult raptors with him into the jungle, probably on a hunting expedition. Alex turned back to look at Alan one more time, giving him a low-pitched grunt.

Alan chirped back something in reply, then said in English, "Don't worry so much, big guy. I think I can handle it."

Amazingly enough, the raptor merely nodded his head -- an almost human gesture -- before disappearing into the jungle.

Billy cautiously approached Alan, making sure the big raptor was truly gone before he got too close. He wasn't in the mood to fend off a pissed-off velociraptor today.

Alan smiled weakly at him, motioning him closer. When Billy still hesitated, glancing back in the direction Alex had gone, Alan just shook his head. Limping closer, he pulled Billy into an enthusiastic hug.

Billy was nothing if not an opportunist, and he happily leaned into the unexpected contact, moving his hands upward to get as much contact with Alan's broad back as he could. When Alan pulled back, Billy released him reluctantly and said, "Missed you."

Alan laughed. "Yeah. Missed you, too." He glanced downward. "Sorry, Billy. I know this hasn't been easy on you."

Snorting, Billy said, "It's a lot easier than being the main course for a flock of pteranadons." Seeing the stricken look on Alan's face, Billy grasped his shoulders. "God, I'm sorry, Alan. Hey, I'm all right." He pulled his shirt up. "See, no gaping holes!"

Alan merely looked at him for a few moments, then reached out almost tentatively to trace the paths of the deeper scratches on his upper chest.

Billy shivered as the fingers followed a long gash that extended almost to his navel.

"Well, at least _yours_ aren't infected," Alan murmured softly. The older man removed his hand slowly, seemingly reluctant to stop touching him.

_God, I only hope that's what it means!_

Alan shook his head once as if pulling himself out of a trance. He waited until Billy had pulled his shirt back down before saying, "But it probably wouldn't hurt for you to come, too."

Billy was vaguely bewildered, but he figured it was due more to the aftereffects of Alan's touch than anything else. "Come where? What are you talking about?"

One side of Alan's mouth quirked up into a smile. Gesturing to the adolescent raptor next to him, he said, "It would appear that Bob and I have an appointment with a mud bath." The skin around his eyes crinkled in a sign of amusement that Billy adored. "Care to join us?"

*************************************

Okay, so Alan wasn't kidding.

They had traveled some distance from the raptors' clearing. Other than the injured Bob, their only other traveling companion had been an adult raptor that Billy hadn't had contact with before. When Billy had asked, Alan had shrugged and said merely, "Bodyguard. Alex doesn't trust me on my own anymore." He had indicated his tattered clothing. "You can dress me up, but you just can't take me anywhere."

Alan's grin was infectious, and Billy had smiled also, happy to finally be 'alone' with Alan.

But he hadn't been expecting _this_. It was mud all right -- gray, slimy, foul-smelling mud.

Alan waded in without hesitation, settling himself into a seated position with a contented-sounding sigh. "Come on in, the, uhm, mud is fine."

"Alan, are you nuts? That stuff smells _nasty_."

Smiling, Alan said, "Billy, you might want to get in before. . . ."

Billy yelped as a strong push from behind knocked him sprawling into the mud.

"Bob pushes you in himself," Alan finished once Billy had retrieved his face from the mud. He grinned. "He really enjoys doing that, you know."

Spluttering and wiping clinging globs of mud off his face, Billy merely glared at the young raptor, who was bobbing his head up and down at the edge of the pool. Staring thoughtfully at the clump of mud still in his hand, Billy shrugged, then threw the mud at the young raptor's chest. He smiled at the ecstatic squeal that followed the impact.

Alan said, "Oh, no. Now we're really in for it. Billy, I don't think you should have. . . ."

Billy had turned to face Alan when he began to speak, so he didn't see the raptor-sized missile that landed with a resounding splash between them.

When he was able to get enough mud off his face to see again, Billy looked over to see Alan doing much the same thing . . . while trying to fend off one gleefully wallowing raptor blowing bubbles in the mud with his nostrils.

Billy couldn't help it -- he laughed. He laughed until he had tears coming from his eyes, and Alan laughed right along with him. Just when he'd get his breath back, Bob would do some kind of raptor gymnastics that would send another glob of mud trailing down Alan's face, and it would set Billy off all over again.

Finally, Alan was able to settle the young raptor with a firmly voiced command, and Billy relaxed into the warm mud with a grateful sigh. Catching Alan's eye, he said, "Great, now I can tell my academic advisors that I've been mud wrestling with a velociraptor. I'll never get my doctorate. They're gonna think I'm nuts."

"Join the club. We'll both be working the concession stand at the bowling alley from now on."

"Does Jordan even _have_ a bowling alley?" Billy asked.

"Don't know. But I guess we can always start one." Alan smiled. "God knows my academic credibility's been shot to hell this trip."

"Speaking of credibility, do you mind telling me _why_ we're sitting here, covered in mud?"

"Really, Billy, I know it hasn't been _that_ long since your last geology course." He grinned, taking the bite out of his words. "What do you smell?"

Billy felt his mouth turn down in a grimace. "Rotten eggs."

"Aha, top of your class, no doubt. Or was that merely remembering your last turn at kitchen duty at the dig?"

"Don't be a smart-ass, Alan. Okay, it's _sulfur_."

"Ah-hah! The boy shows some promise, after all! And does sulfur have any properties _other_ than offending your sensitive nose?"

"Well, it doesn't offend me as much as. . . ." Billy paused when everything clicked. "Oh. I gotcha. So this is some kind of magic mineral bath?"

Alan shook his head, a little more serious now. "No, not magic. But it does seem to have helped a little with my injuries." He indicated the young raptor, now in the far end of the pool, resting belly up with just his head and claws above the mud. "Bob's wound was starting to look pretty bad, and I gather that Alex didn't like the 'smell' of mine either." He shrugged. "I convinced Alex to let me bring Bob here to see if the volcanic ash mud would help."

Billy eyed the other raptor on guard, who was still staring diligently off into the forest. Sliding closer to Alan, Billy said, "It would help your wounds even more if I got you back to civilization -- and some _real_ antibiotics."

Alan stared at him for a few moments, and then shook his head silently.

"Alan, we can't stay here forever."

Sighing, Alan said, "Regardless of our raptor shadow over there, there's no way I'm in any kind of shape to make it to the coast. I'd just slow you down, and when Alex caught up to us -- and believe me, he _would_ catch up to us -- you'd be dead, and I . . . well, I might as well be." He lowered his gaze, refusing to meet Billy's eyes.

"Alan, I can _help_ you make it to the coast." Alan finally looked up, and Billy hoped he could loosen the man's resistance with humor. It had worked for him in the past, anyway. "Hey, didn't you say I could be your lucky staff?"

"It wouldn't be enough, Billy, and you know it." He paused. "But you could make it . . . alone."

"No. No goddamn way, Alan. I lost you once, and it's not going to happen again."

"Billy, you're in danger here."

"Yes, I am. But so are you -- you've just let yourself forget that!"

Alan held out his injured arm. "No, I _haven't_ forgotten that. Not for one goddamn moment. Never." At Billy's stubborn stare, Alan said, "Damnit, Billy, I don't want to lose you!"

"Then stop trying to send me away -- it works better that way!"

Alan glared back, then subsided with a sigh. "Sitting in a pile of mud in a dinosaur-infested jungle, arguing like idiots. We're a fine pair, aren't we?"

Billy paused, then said significantly, "No, but we could be."

Alan's eyes widened. "Billy. . . ."

"No. No more arguments, and no more delays. You could have _died_, damnit." He grabbed Alan's head and pulled him closer, kissing him fiercely.

Alan didn't resist him . . . at least not for long. He tasted like mud, he tasted like sulfur, he tasted . . . pretty damn amazing, as a matter of fact. And Billy didn't even _want_ to think about coming up for air.

They were finally forced apart when a mud-covered snout shoved itself inquisitively between them.

"Alan. . . ."

Alan shook his head regretfully. "Not in front of the children." He gave Billy a lopsided smile. "Another time and another place, Billy. As you just finished saying -- it's not safe here."

Billy glared at him. _He_ wasn't going back to the way things were, and he wasn't going to give Alan a chance to change his mind either. Life was just too damn short. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Dr. Grant."

"Understood, Mr. Brennan."

***************************

"Communication is a ripe breeding ground for chaos. Not only do we have a myriad of languages,  
but there are dialects, subdialects, and the element of sheer complacency. Never discount the  
power of laziness when it comes to fermenting chaos. It takes much less effort for a lazy person  
to hate someone who speaks a different language than it does to actually learn the language in the  
first place. Of course, the opposite sex has always spoken a different language than me, and it  
_stays_ a foreign language no matter how hard I try to learn it.  
Some things were just never meant to be."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


A few days later, Billy was almost beside himself with frustration. He had tried numerous times -- from a safe distance, thanks to the presence of an ever-hovering Alex -- to convince Alan that they had to make a break for it. Alan had just shaken his head. His wounds refused to close completely, he still limped noticeably, and Billy knew no amount of sulfur baths would change that.

Soon, they would have no chance at all, because Alex seemed to be getting even more focused on Alan every day. Alan claimed he didn't know what was causing the change in the alpha male raptor's behavior, but Billy was beginning to have a very disquieting suspicion. As Billy had told him before, Alan was too damn close to the situation to see clearly.

Also, Billy knew that a part of Alan simply didn't _want_ to leave. The academic in Alan Grant was in full swing, and he caught Alan more than once reaching for a phantom pen in a nonexistent pocket when he encountered some new aspect of raptor society that fascinated him.

It wasn't that Billy didn't realize this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to observe raptor behavior. When he had been growing up, Billy had dreamed about interacting with real dinosaurs in just this way, and it was that childhood fantasy which had started him down the path of paleontology in the first place.

But it was hard to study something that was so terribly efficient at eating you, at least up close and personal like this. Billy hadn't forgotten his terror at seeing Alan about to be torn apart by that whip-thin female raptor. It still gave him nightmares, which weren't helped by how utterly fearless Alan acted with the other pack members.

If familiarity bred contempt, then Alan was looking at a massive paternity suit here.

As for Alex -- well, Billy had thought he would eventually get used to the malevolent stare every time Billy got too close to Alan, but he hadn't.

Not by a long shot.

Granted, most of the raptors simply ignored Billy, and he had to admit that the youngsters were particularly endearing, especially the female, Cleo. She strutted around the clearing like she owned the place, and more than once Alan had shooed her in Billy's direction when he just wasn't up to playing her particularly rambunctious version of 'tag.' Cleo was as active, curious, and open as any human child, and he could see why Alan was so fond of her.

Between the heat and his ongoing weakness, Alan was prone to taking a nap during the day, and he would invariably end up with at least one tiny velociraptor curled up on his chest or against his ribs when he did so. They seemed to find the sound of his heartbeat reassuring, and Billy couldn't help feeling a little jealous that it wasn't _his_ head lying there.

This morning, however, Alan was resting against a sapling with Rex and Cleo attempting to ambush the small fan Alan had made out of palm fronds. Alan's head was protected from the insects now that he had his beloved fedora back, but the bugs were still inexorably drawn to his festering wounds. As it turned out, the fan didn't do much good against the insects, but the baby velociraptors found it utterly fascinating. The young adolescent, Bob, crouched just behind Alan and used his snout to ward off any fan-hunting, airborne baby velociraptor in danger of landing too close to Alan's wounded arm. The hatchlings squealed delightedly every time they were spun around in mid-air, so they obviously didn't mind the intervention.

It was a very domestic scene, if you can call communing with dangerous, highly evolved, 65-million-year-old predators 'domestic.'

From his seated position several yards away, Billy tried again to convince Alan they had to leave. "You can't take them with you, you know."

Alan's hand froze, and a triumphant Cleo nabbed the now immobile fan with an impressive leap, dragging it off to a nearby bush to munch noisily.

Alan tipped his hat back slowly. He might have done it just to see Billy better, but Billy knew this was a standard Alan maneuver while composing an answer to a particularly worrisome question.

"Well," he finally said, "it _would_ be difficult getting them enrolled in the local preschool."

"Alan. . . ." Billy stopped, shaking his head.

Sighing, Alan said, "Billy, I know I've given you reason to question my sanity once or twice, but I sincerely hope you don't think I'm crazy enough to remove one of these animals from this island."

They both turned as Cleo backed out of the bush, followed closely by Rex. Snarling and spitting, she dragged the fan's flayed carcass back to Alan, warning her brother away with bared teeth. Arranging herself primly against Alan's side, she picked up her prize and offered it to Alan, chirruping around a mouthful of mangled fan.

Alan looked down at her and smiled, taking the offer with a slight bow and a solemn "Thank you." Cleo looked up at him, cocked her head and chirped enquiringly. Alan said, "Sorry," then grunted something to her in raptor. Seemingly satisfied with that, the little raptor settled down at his side, resting her head on her tiny forelegs.

Billy shook his head. "I know you're not crazy, Alan. I just think you're missing something painfully obvious."

Alan raised an eyebrow at him. "And that would be?"

Billy sighed. How to say this without sounding like a total idiot? "Alex doesn't merely distrust me because I'm a human, he hates me because he's jealous."

Snorting, Alan said, "Now who's been out in the heat too long?" Holding up a hand, he forestalled Billy's rebuttal. "Billy, we've already been over why they hate humans so much, and now _you're_ the one attributing human emotions to a creature who is just trying to protect his pack."

"Alan, he's not trying to protect the pack, he's trying to protect _you_."

"He's not likely to think of you as much of a threat, Billy."

"Not _physically_. I'm a threat to him because you very clearly marked me as yours, if you'll remember."

Alan seemed taken aback by that and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll admit he didn't respond well to that, but I'm still not sure it wasn't the _gun_ he took more exception to."

Billy leaned forward intently, determined to make the paleontologist see sense. "Alan, we have to get out _now_, while we still. . . ." He cut himself off abruptly when he noticed Alex watching intently from the tree hollow.

Alan followed Billy's gaze and shrugged. "It's not like he can understand English, Billy."

Billy thought otherwise. He knew he was in danger of anthromorphizing, but Billy was sure he'd seen something more than the baseline anger smoldering in the big raptor's eyes this time. Although the raptors weren't anatomically capable of human speech, Billy was certain that Alex _understood_ more English than Alan was aware of.

Or would admit to.

Rex chose that moment to approach Alan with one of his seemingly endless requests, and Billy saw no reason to continue the conversation anyway. He didn't know if Alan hadn't made the connection, or just didn't _want_ to make the connection, but it was pretty damn obvious to Billy.

Billy caught motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to see an older mated pair, whom Alan had nicknamed George and Gracie, meet at the edge of the clearing. They briefly intertwined their long, flexible necks, then George turned and nipped Gracie lightly on the back of her neck.

Glancing over at an oblivious Alan, Billy decided then and there he would have to take matters into his own hands. Years ago, when Billy had heard through the grapevine that Dr. Alan Grant was looking for an assistant for his dig, he didn't just send him a CV and sit back to wait. He'd made himself so annoying -- and so indispensable -- that Alan had finally hired him in what he'd jokingly called an act of self-preservation. Billy had seen his opportunity, seized it with both hands, and poor Alan hadn't known what hit him.

Contrary to popular belief, sometimes lightning _does_ strike twice.

***************************

Billy's opportunity arrived sooner than he'd expected.

Alan limped over to Billy the next morning after Alex had temporarily left the clearing. "Alex has exhausted his source for canned food items, at least those items accessible to someone without opposable thumbs." Alan smiled ruefully. "In any case, that's what I _think_ the problem is."

As amazing as Alan's mimicry skills were, his 'vocabulary' was still very basic given the differences between the species' vocal apparati, and his 'conversations' with the raptors were, as a result, severely limited. Alan jokingly referred to it as 'pidgin raptor.'

"Therefore, Mr. Brennan, it appears we're going on a field trip." Alan removed his hat, scratching at his sweat-dampened hair as he gazed in the direction the alpha raptor had gone. "At least, that's what I _think_ we're doing."

"Be careful, Alan, or you'll ruin my impression of your omniscience."

Alan rolled his eyes. "If that were the case, I wouldn't have ended up stranded on _one_ of these damn islands, much less two."

"Well, you did have a little help the second time. I'm the one who talked you into meeting with the Kirbys."

Alan reached out and grabbed Billy's shoulder. "Don't keep beating yourself up about that, Billy. I was there for the Kirbys' sales pitch, too, and I fell for it hook, line and sinker." He gave Billy one of his lopsided smiles. "Besides, I'm supposed to be older and wiser."

"You're not old!" Billy protested.

"I'm not proving to be particularly wise either, so I guess that makes me two for two."

Alex re-emerged into the clearing with his second-in-command close behind, barking orders to the pack milling in the clearing. Alan hurriedly released Billy's shoulder.

Billy eyed the big raptor distrustfully. "And am I invited on this excursion, too?"

"Most definitely," Alan said. "I doubt he would trust you here alone. Besides, you can help keep the kids in line."

"Oh, happy day. I don't remember baby-sitting being part of the job description when I signed on as your assistant."

"That's because you didn't even _look_ at the job description when you signed on as my assistant." Alan sounded slightly aggrieved. "I swear you just make up things up as you go along."

Billy grinned at him. "I do, but that's what makes me totally indispensable to you. I'm flexible."

Alan just smiled, but Billy could easily see the fondness in his mentor's eyes. Some days, that was enough to make this whole mess worthwhile and Billy could wait patiently. On days like today, he just wanted to drag Alan off into the bushes and say to hell with the consequences.

Alex chose that moment to approach the two of them, Rex and Cleo following close behind. It may have been mere coincidence that the big raptor nearly knocked Billy to the ground when he came to 'talk' to Alan, but Billy seriously doubted it.

And from the unsettled look on Alan's face, he didn't think so either.

_Good. It's about time that Alan got a clue_. Billy knew that a risk to his protégé's continued well-being would be the _only_ thing to make Alan agree to escape. It wasn't conceit on Billy's part, because Alan had always been protective of him.

He just had a little more reason than usual these days.

**********************

"One of the more interesting modern finds is a superpredator named _Spinosaurus aegyptiacus_.  
From the fossil remains, which are very few after the first specimen was destroyed during Allied  
bombing in World War II, this carnivore at least partially fed on a diet of fish. We're basing this  
theory primarily on the length of its snout and its raised nostrils,  
but no one knows exactly what its _preferred_ diet consisted of."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Ancient Bones, Ancient Tales_  


  


It was nearly a third of the pack that ended up traveling to the abandoned InGen compound, although most of them were well out of sight.

"Scouting," Alan said when Billy asked about the missing pack members. Alan looked nervous and was keeping a firmer than usual hand on the baby raptors. "Alex evidently thinks there's something dangerous enough here to warrant the extra caution."

In fact, when Billy looked over, Alex was stretched as tall as he could reach, swiveling his head and scenting the air. Jeff and Bob were following close behind in a loose triangular formation, and all three raptors appeared hypervigilant.

"Tyrannosaurus?" Billy ventured.

Alan shook his head. "No, they wouldn't be this worried. They know they can outsmart a T-rex, even if they weren't capable of outrunning him."

"The spinosaurus."

"Yeah. The sheer size differential negates a lot of their advantages. And it's far more intelligent, too." Alan slowed long enough to snap a command in raptor to Rex, who seemed inclined to stop and investigate an intriguing bush.

Billy looked down at his arm, batting away a mosquito large enough to be taking blood transfusions. "So why don't we just head back? We're not totally out of supplies yet." Trying to stop the bleeding on his arm, Billy literally walked into Alan, not having seen him stop suddenly.

"Because now it's behind us."

Billy followed Alan's gaze to the raptors, who had turned and were in a head-down position, three tails lashing in agitation, looking back the direction they had come.

The alpha raptor took a precious second to stare back at Alan, barking some sort of command.

Nodding, Alan scooped up Rex and handed him to Billy. Snagging Cleo in turn, Alan said, "Alex is going to try and distract it."

After seeing that Alan had the baby raptors in hand, Alex threw his head up in the air and coughed out the distinctive raptor distress call.

It was impossible to mistake the earth-shattering roar that answered the raptor's call, and it sounded distressingly close.

"Distract it? Great, so what the hell are _we_ supposed to do?" Billy looked beyond the raptors toward the forest . . . and the sound of something very large crashing through the undergrowth.

"What else?" Alan said. "Run!"

They made the best time they could, but with the heavy undergrowth, it wasn't very impressive. Alan slowed almost immediately, hindered by the dual handicaps of the baby raptor he carried and his injuries. Behind them, they heard the deep-throated bellow of the spinosaurus intermingled with the higher pitched roars of the raptors.

Alan stumbled, nearly pitching headfirst onto the ground. Billy was able to snag him with his free hand, and they paused a moment for Alan to catch his breath.

Billy turned his head back the way they came. "Is it my imagination, or is that thing still getting closer?"

Breathing heavily, his face red and flushed, Alan said, "Not your imagination. It is." Alan tugged on Billy's arm, "C'mon, gotta keep moving."

"But why, Alan? Shouldn't it be happy to snack on the raptors? Why come after us?"

"If you had a choice between trying to kill a pack of lions or a goat for dinner, which would you choose?" Alan was forced to gasp the words out between breaths.

"I can't say I'm very fond of goat, but I see what you're getting at. Besides," Billy added grimly, "I think it's developed a taste for humans by now."

They continued as best they could through this inexplicably dense area of rainforest. Lurching through a tangled network of vines, they emerged onto what looked like the remnants of a trail. Billy recognized it from his earlier trek while hunting the raptor pack. He stopped Alan again. "The compound's that way," he said, pointing down the trail, and more importantly, away from the rapidly approaching spinosaurus.

The pain-filled squeal of an injured raptor split the humid air, and Billy saw Alan wince.

"Might as well stay on the trail. It'll be quicker for us, and it's not like the undergrowth will slow the spinosaurus much." Alan shook his head wearily. "Buildings aren't much of a deterrent for that thing either, but it might give us someplace to hide the kids."

Billy nodded, tightening his grip on Rex. Luckily, the little raptors seemed to understand the gravity of their situation, because there was none of the squirming or demands to be put down they normally encountered while carrying the twins.

They broke out at last into the clearing, but they didn't pause. The lumbering crashes of the huge dinosaur behind them spurred them on, and they didn't stop until they reached the entrance to the InGen headquarters building.

Alan glanced back and saw the spinosaurus emerge from the forest, roar, and head straight for them again, a pack of harrying velociraptors still snapping at its flanks.

Billy started to head deeper into the building, but Alan stayed him. "No, Billy, I promised Alex I'd look out for the children, but we've become more of a danger to them than a help."

Handing a trembling Cleo to Billy, Alan took a moment to rub both baby raptor heads, then ran back out onto the steps of the building.

"Alan, where the hell do you think you're going?"

Waving him back, Alan cupped his hands and called something in raptor. It sounded to Billy something like the distress signal, but slightly different. Whatever it was, it unfortunately focused the attention of the spinosaurus onto him, as well as the raptors. Alan called back to Billy, "Stay inside and wait for help!" Then the infuriating man lurched down the steps and headed toward the far end of the clearing.

Billy drew breath to yell after him again, but then realized what Alan was trying to do. Knowing he would endanger the baby raptors if he drew the attention of the spinosaurus, Billy reluctantly backed into the shadows of the foyer. In turns both furious at Alan and frightened for him, Billy waited for the raptor cavalry to appear.

It was the Matron and one of the other older females who finally answered Alan's call, emerging soundlessly from the rear of the building. Billy turned the subdued baby raptors over to them, giving them both a quick rub on the snout before releasing them. He nodded once to the Matron and received a quiet grunt in reply. She and the other female gathered up the twins, and they all disappeared into the relative safety of the rear of the building.

Billy waited impatiently, knowing he had to give them time to exit the building before he risked drawing the spinosaurus' attention and negating Alan's sacrifice.

But he swore he was going to kill that man . . . if the spinosaurus hadn't already done so, that is.

**********************

"InGen thought they could build wire fences and pens, and that was all they needed to contain  
animals that ruled the earth for 165 million years. If you ask me, that's not just arrogant,  
it's downright stupid."

  


Dr. Alan Grant  
_Theme Park Monsters - the Truth about Jurassic Park_  


  


Okay, so this hadn't been such a great idea after all.

Alan crashed back into the forest, heading in the direction of the river. He wasn't exactly certain why, since water was merely an alternate hunting ground for the big carnivore, but he was rapidly running out of options.

The cries of injured raptors were getting more regular now, as Alan caught glimpses of an obviously desperate Alex directing the pack into increasingly daring attacks. The spinosaurus merely brushed aside with snout or tail any raptor that got too close, and even a glancing blow had dangerous consequences for the much smaller dinosaurs.

Alan broke once more into the open and saw the high, serrated fence top of the dinosaur enclosure. Damn! He recognized this particular fence, and if he was too far away, he'd be trapped between the fence and the spinosaurus until he could find another break in the wire.

The spinosaurus was even closer now, and Alan ran desperately along the fence line, ignoring the wound that had re-opened on his calf, praying he wasn't too far away from the pteranadon enclosure. If he could make it into the building, he might be safe, since it had thwarted the spinosaurus before. Of course, he'd have to find another way in since they'd bolted the door from the inside the last time.

_One thing at a time, Grant, one thing at a time. Just concentrate on surviving that long, why don't you?_

Alex and the raptor pack had managed to slow the spinosaurus down, but Alan risked a glance back long enough to realize it was still gaining on him. That damn building had better show up soon, Alan thought desperately.

_There!_ As he rounded a slight bend, he saw the building, but the spinosaurus was even closer, slowed but not stopped by the raptor pack. He heard Alex's roared challenge and the higher pitched answer from Bob, but there were far fewer raptors than at the onset of this nightmare.

How many packmembers had Alex lost trying to protect him? Alex had to know that his children were safe, so why was he risking his pack like this? How many of the raptors that Alan had come to know as distinct individuals had died already?

Furious and heartsick, Alan skidded to a stop at the building, but as he'd been afraid, there was no other way in. He looked back, and the spinosaurus was now totally ignoring the harrying pack of velociraptors trying desperately to slow it down.

He looked up, and an idea began to form. Not a very good idea probably, but it was all he had -- all the _raptors_ had. Not allowing any time to doubt himself, he started to climb the outside wall, finding barely enough handholds with his injured arm, but desperation gave him a false sense of strength. As soon as he made it to the top, he turned and called a series of short commands to Alex, and he watched as the big raptor lifted his head toward him in seeming surprise.

Hopefully, he'd gotten the message right and Alex would understand what he was trying to do, or else he would soon be the _late_ 'famous Dr. Grant.'

Standing as close to the edge of the roof as he could, Alan started yelling and waving his arms, trying to get the spinosaurus' undivided attention.

Well, he certainly had that, as the spinosaurus was now in full stride, its sail swaying with the creature's long strides, throwing up its head and bellowing its triumph as it locked onto the elusive human again. And yes, the raptors had pulled away at a call from Alex, and were now directly behind the single-minded predator's advance, keeping pace but no longer harrying the spinosaurus.

This might just work, Alan thought, as the spinosaurus gradually picked up speed. He backed slowly toward the rear and one side of the roof.

The only problem was, it might work a little _too_ well.

*******************************

Easily following the sounds of the embattled dinosaurs, Billy emerged at a dead run around the bend of the fence and nearly stumbled at the sight before him. _What the hell was the damn fool trying to do now?_

Billy was too far away to affect what was about to happen, and for some reason the raptors had stopped their constant stream of harrying attacks against the superpredator. Billy didn't stop running, but he couldn't figure out why Alan was making such an obvious target of himself. Alan was backing toward the rear of the building now, but he didn't stop his wild yelling and screaming, and at this rate the big dinosaur was simply going to crash straight through the building to get at him. . . .

_Oh._

Billy finally worked out what Alan was trying to accomplish, but whether the infuriating man would get himself off the roof in time was a whole different story.

He shook his head, taking the time to make a prayer for impulsive, idiotic paleontologists.

And hoped that Alan's luck hadn't just run out.

*********************

Alan edged backward even further, hearing the roar of the river rapids far below even above the noise of the oncoming spinosaurus. He had to time this just right or he'd end up as an appetizer anyway.

Sparing a brief glance behind him to judge the distance, Alan winced. He wasn't much for heights, and the last time he'd been here, he'd nearly fallen into the ravine when the walkway had given way. He looked up, knowing he had to keep a close eye on the approaching spinosaurus . . . and nearly fell backwards in surprise.

It was almost a scene from some cheap, B-rated adventure movie, because the spinosaurus was being closely followed by the pack of raptors, who were being closely followed by an onrushing Billy Brennan, who was being closely followed by a . . . _helicopter_?

Where the hell had _that_ come from?

He watched as Billy registered the sound of the helicopter behind him, but Alan didn't have any more time. The spinosaurus was almost on top of him, and Alan yelled even louder, hoping the enraged creature would try to get to him by going _through_ the building just as it had once gone through the fence in its single-minded pursuit of prey. Alan had known the first time this tiny building shouldn't have stopped the spinosaurus, and that it had probably been a mere case of 'out of sight, out of mind' that had saved them before.

But now, if the damn thing just came at him _fast_ enough. . . .

The spinosaurus didn't slow down, hitting the steel building like an out-of-control bulldozer. The building buckled around the spinosaurus and Alan desperately jumped from the edge of the roof, knowing that one way or the other, this was gonna hurt.

***********************

"Some people seem to attract chaos more than others. Whether it's personal power, political  
position, or sheer cussedness, chaos adheres to them like cheap makeup on a hooker. Unless you  
enjoy dangling over proverbial precipices, it's best to avoid hanging out with someone like that.  
I'm speaking from personal experience, mind you."

  


Dr. Ian Malcom  
_Chaos and the Common Man_  


  


Billy stopped and turned when he finally heard the chopper, and he stared at it for a few seconds in open-mouthed disbelief as he recognized the clean-cut face of the Iowa medic who'd patched him up what felt like a lifetime ago. But he didn't spare any more time than that. He had to get to Alan, and he'd deal with their would-be saviors once Alan was safe.

Nothing else mattered.

Ignoring the frenzied call from the medic, Billy turned and ran back into the fray. The spinosaurus hit the building that Alan was standing on with a sound like an explosion. Billy watched as Alan jumped, but he couldn't see if he'd landed on solid ground. The deep ravine that housed the pteranadon enclosure was nestled right up against the building, but the combination of the steel-reinforced building and Alan's disappearance slowed the spinosaurus enough that it didn't immediately careen over the edge as Alan must have hoped. The big dinosaur suddenly realized its plight and started to turn, thrashing its tail violently to either side and flattening more of the sturdy building.

The raptors had other plans, however. Before the spinosaurus could complete its turn, the entire pack closed in for the kill. Hampered by the steel beams surrounding it, the spinosaurus was at a distinct disadvantage now, and the raptors made the most of it.

Billy kept running, angling toward the side of the building where he'd seen Alan jump, as one of the male raptors got a lucky slash onto the left thigh of the spinosaurus. Partially hamstrung, the spinosaurus lurched to its injured side, and the raptors closed in again.

Finally reaching the far side of the building, Billy gasped in relief at seeing Alan there, struggling to rise. The man was a mess, covered in blood and dirt and dust, and he was the most beautiful thing Billy had ever seen.

Billy slid to a stop next to Alan and hauled him bodily to his feet, regardless of his injuries. He knew they didn't have much time, and for once, he prayed that the spinosaurus would survive . . . just a little longer.

Alan gasped when Billy started dragging him away from the building and the battle engaged there, and he tried to turn when there was yet another raptor call that was cut horribly short.

"No, Alan!" Billy yelled over the sound of the dinosaurs and the rapidly approaching helicopter. "We have to leave now!"

But Alan could be an unmovable force when he had something up his craw, and he pulled back from Billy just shy of the hovering helicopter, its pilot wisely deciding that actually landing the craft would be a very _bad_ idea.

Billy kept a grip on Alan's shoulders, but he knew better than to try to move him before he was ready. They watched as the spinosaurus tried to turn and fend off its attackers, but its injured leg forced it horribly off-balance. Alex called out one more command, and the pack launched themselves together in the confined space and hit the spinosaurus as one. The spinosaurus roared once, and then tipped, ever so slowly, over the side and into the abyss.

The big raptor threw its head up and screamed its defiance and triumph, but then turned around to look for Alan. Alex's head rose up in surprise at the proximity of the helicopter, and Billy tugged forcefully at Alan.

"Now, Alan, we have to leave now!"

But Alan Grant seemed almost mesmerized by Alex's gaze, and Billy swore when his pleas went into seemingly deaf ears.

Alex made a low growl deep in his throat and started a measured approach to them, and Billy knew they'd just run out of time. Pivoting Alan around on his bad leg, Billy crouched as Alan started to fall and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. He turned and lurched toward the safety of the chopper, praying the pilot would hold his altitude for just a few seconds more. Unfortunately, the Marines were too low to offer any effective covering fire with the humans directly in line with the oncoming raptors.

It seemed to take forever until he was close enough to the chopper for eager hands to grab first Alan and then Billy into the open cabin, but it had to have been only seconds. Hearing the irate roar from close behind them -- _very_ close behind them -- Billy yelled, "Up, up, now!" before he had been completely hauled inside himself. The pilot didn't need any more encouragement than that, given the sight of an entire velociraptor pack rushing directly toward them.

The helicopter tilted as it started to gain altitude, and Billy felt himself fall backward as the Marine holding on to him slipped. He heard Alex's irate roar directly below him and knew he was a dead man. Then Alan grabbed his other arm, and Billy lurched back into the chopper as Alan threw himself bodily backward. Billy felt the burn of teeth grazing his lower leg, and knew the quick action on Alan's part had saved his leg.

At the very least.

Billy crawled over to the bulkhead that Alan was resting against. Alan's eyes were open, but he stared straight ahead as if dazed, his eyes fixed on the still-open door of the chopper. They had gained enough altitude to avoid further attacks, but as the helicopter slowly circled the clearing, the noses of every single raptor in the clearing were pointed directly at them.

Then the largest raptor, the one with a broad stripe down the side of its neck, threw its nose in the air and emitted a low, two-tone sound that Billy had never heard the raptor make before.

He didn't need to speak raptor to know what it meant, however, because the word was in English -- extremely distorted and almost unrecognizable -- but still very much in English.

"_Al-an!_"

At this, Alan's eyes widened and he moved dangerously close to the open door as he locked gazes with Alex far below him.

"_Al-an!_" the big raptor called again, making a hopeless leap for a cherished packmate who was soon to be forever out of reach.

Billy grabbed Alan's shoulder, not entirely certain what Alan would do, but he needn't have worried. He felt a deep shudder wrack Alan's body, but the paleontologist made no further movement toward the door.

The medic chose that moment to sit down next to them, his medkit already open at this side. "God, Dr. Grant. That's enough to give you the willies, ain't it? It sounded almost like it was calling your name!" He laughed weakly, evidently still disconcerted by their close call. Rummaging in his pack for supplies, he continued, "Bet you'd like to kill that one yourself, seeing as it sounded kinda personal like."

Since he was preoccupied with his pack, the medic didn't see the quick flash of anger in Alan's eyes, but Billy did. His grip tightened again on Alan's arm.

The medic's eyes flew upward at the unmistakable growl of a velociraptor directly in front of him. He looked around in a panic, no doubt wondering how one of the creatures could have made it unnoticed into the helicopter. When he didn't see anything, the medic looked first at Alan, then at Billy, puzzlement clear on his face.

Billy just shrugged. While he was grateful to the Marines for saving them, he simply didn't have much to say at this point. And he didn't know what _Alan_ had just said, but from the look on his face, it hadn't been complimentary.

Somehow Billy didn't think the famous Dr. Grant would be writing a book on his experiences this time -- it was far too personal for him to share with anyone else.

But that was alright, because it was personal for Billy too, and if he had his way, it was going to become even more so . . . very soon.

And he was quite certain none of _that_ would ever get into print either.

**end**


End file.
